Escape
by BuckNC
Summary: New job, new mission, new powers, but same old girlfriend problems. This is a very slow Ron/Hermione ship with plenty of romance, action, humor, and a bit of everything.
1. Chapter 1: The Toad Leaps

Title: **ESCAPE**  
>Category: Books » Harry Potter<br>Author: BuckNC  
>Language: English, Rating: R - (Recommended for Adults only)<br>Genre: Romance/Adventure/Angst/Humor

**Summary**: _New job, new mission, new powers, but same old girlfriend problems. This is a very slow Ron/Hermione ship with plenty of romance, action, humor, and a bit of everything._

**Author's Note**: I'm back! Been gone for a few years in retirement so be a bit patient with me on these early chapters. I got a feeling it's going to take a few chapters for me to gain back my touch. You're also going to notice numerous Daily Prophet articles that contain misspelling of Ronald Weasley's name. It's on purpose to the great annoyance of Ron.

**Beta's Note: **Before anyone goes to react about how they don't like what is going on in the story and they think it is unrealistic, I would like to note that we know almost nothing about the time from the end of the War to the epilogue. I am personally super excited to see where this story goes and how Buck chooses to deal with it. Let's all view it like a wonderful adventure into a time only previously imagined.

_**Disclaimer**__: All characters are the property of J. K. Rowling, and Time Warner. This is strictly for non-profit Internet entertainment use and if they sue me, I do not have a dime to my name._

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: <strong>The Toad Leaps

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><p><strong>Dolores Umbridge Escapes!<strong>

_It began not with a series of calculating planning and execution. Instead, one of the greatest escapes from Azkaban began with nothing more than mere human fallacy and a great deal of bungling from the Ministry of Magic. For Dolores Jane Umbridge, former head of the Muggle-born Registration Commission and bane of Senior Auror Harry Potter, had with her toad like leaping ability, or as some would cruelly say, her toad like looks and strong legs, managed her freedom not from the unbreakable, inescapable, depths of Auror-guarded Azkaban, "Nope," as Auror Ron Whoosley would surmise, "even with a wand, Umbridge couldn't pull that off in a hundred years." Instead a wandless and magically shackled Dolores Umbridge had the good fortune to leap past an inattentive Healer for open freedom during her annual physical at St. Mungos. The healer, Miriam Strout, later reported at the time of Umbridge's escape, she was engaged dealing with long-term ward patient, Gilderoy Lockhart. Upon further questioning, the hospital staff revealed that Lockhart, as he often did, was diligently signing his signature all over the hospital walls with a peacock quill. Even more inexcusable and unprofessional than that act was the inaction of now suspended Auror Dawlish, who provided prisoner security. Instead of keeping a watchful eye on one of the most hated criminals in all of magical Great Britain, he had been otherwise occupied, chatting with a plump blond witch, Leighanne Horsehead, at the Volunteer Welcoming desk. No reports as of yet if the "bird" actually agreed to a date with the now plenty-of-free-time-on-his-hands suspended and disgraced Auror. In fact Harry Potter was heard grumbling that Dawlish shouldn't be allowed to breed. However, we at the Daily Prophet bear no ill-will toward Auror John Dawlish and hope the best for him but we did overhear The Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt pledging to perform the Cruciatus Curse on Mr. Dawlish's "balls". We recommend he act swiftly and ask the girl out._

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><p>"I can't believe that BLOODY GIT actually let her escape!" Harry Potter roared to Ron Weasley and the Minster of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt in the Minster's plush office.<p>

Harry's outward irritation was matched by the portraits of a great many of the former Ministers of Magic portraits hanging throughout the office. All except for Cornelius Fudge; he was proudly smirking for all to see. Apparently, he still held the view that the Ministry couldn't be run by anyone other than himself. Kingsley had a scrutinizing stare on his own face.

"Mate – you're going to blow out a blood vessel. Relax! That toad doesn't even have a wand or even so much as a clue on how to survive without one," reassured Ron, watching his best mate clench his fists.

"That's true," agreed Kingsley. "Dolores couldn't tell the time of day using a Muggle watch much less interact with them," Kingsley continued in a reassuring voice to calm Harry.

Harry immediately stopped pacing and angrily retorted, "You don't get it. The Daily Prophet… Merlin even the bloody Quibbler is going to have a field day over this. It won't be long before you can start reading that the Ministry helped her escape!" Harry spit the words out as if they were acid and then stormed across the room and kicked Kingsley's wastebasket in frustration. "Annual physical, my arse! She should be getting an annual beating."

"Harry, I'm not sure that because of your… _history_ with Dolores, you'll be…"

Whatever was supposed to follow "you'll be," was cut off as Harry stopped Kingsley dead in his tracks.

"Professional... objective? I can tell you right now, I WON'T BE! Remember, I **MUST NOT **tell lies!" Harry said, holding up the back of his right hand revealing the old scar that was still faintly visible. "You know what I'd like to do to her after I capture her? I want to wrap her up in a nice big bow and drop her off in the middle of the Forbidden Forests for Aragog's siblings to eat!"

"I know you have very personal reasons for her capture Harry, but really I think this should be one case that you sit out."

"Never," Harry stated firmly, as if he had been personally insulted.

"Well then, maybe I need to make myself clear." Kingsley calmly stated, using a tone that clearly reminded Harry that he was speaking to The Minister of Magic. "You **ARE** going to sit this one out, Harry!"

Nevertheless, Harry objected again. "Kingsley, I refuse to hand this over to someone that'll just screw it up even more."

"You're not going to," Kingsley replied, as he pointed at Ron who had been standing quietly in the corner of the room, "It will be Auror Weasley's job to find her."

"Bloody Hell!" groaned Ron.

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><p><strong>AN:** As always Reviews are greatly appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2: NEVER going to happen – ever

**Author's Note:** I'm not able to answer reviews, but if I were I would personally thank Angry Penguin, rhmac12, McLaughlin, Eckles, 79AvadaWeasleyKedavra, placebo13, Billybob, and James1110 for just remembering who I was. It's been so long since I posted that I really thought I would be starting from scratch. It really, really means a lot to me that you reviewed. :-)

**Beta's Note: **You know what's really hard? Relationships. I think everyone should really keep that in mind. Also hard: surviving a war. These are two things that would have a huge effect on romantic relationships. Imagine someone who is dealing with both. That is the most important.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: "NEVER going to happen – ever"<strong>

Ron couldn't help but notice the time as he waited in the crowded line to exit the Ministry via the Floo network.

_Bloody hell, she's going to be boiling mad_.

SHE was none other than his girlfriend going on seven years: the impossible, sexy, and brilliant Hermione Granger. The boiling mad part was the fact that he realized that he wasn't going to show up at her flat for dinner on time. Plus, he didn't send an owl that he was going to be late. For Ron it was the Owl letters he hated way more than showing up late or having Hermione go on at him. Over the last four years, Owl letters had become an obsession with her. It had started during her last year at Hogwarts and it continued even when she started her job at the Ministry's Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. No matter how busy or how far away Ron was, he was required to send a daily owl to his girlfriend. She always wanted to know what he was doing, who he was with, and when he would be back.

_Blah, blah, blah._ _It was enough to drive a bloke insane_.

He wasn't quite sure when the exchange of Owl messages turned into a mandatory daily status report. All he knew was if he failed to write one, he faced the wrath of his incensed, impossible, sexy and brilliant girlfriend. He thought about his recent mission to East Africa. One would think dealing with a death breathing and diseased Nundu that was running loose across Africa would warrant a reprieve from daily owl letters.

"No excuse," chirped Ron, his spot on imitation of Hermione's voice as he moved forward in line.

"Excuse for what," asked an elderly gray haired witch, holding tightly on to her pink polka dot purse. Ron wasn't sure if she was holding the ugly purse in fear of losing it in the floo or of someone snatching it outright.

"Nothing," grumbled Ron, in hopes of getting her to ignore him.

The elderly witch seemed perplexed by Ron's outburst but said nothing more as it was her turn to step into the fireplace.

_"Harry's the lucky one," _he thought. Harry rarely ever had to write an Owl to Ginny while away on missions. Harry was even luckier because Ron never once heard his sister complain. And at least she always understood the fact that both of them were working as hard as possible to capture Death Eaters, rounding up Dementors, sorting out Mountain giants, and Merlin knows what else. Not Hermione though. His Hermione couldn't stand not to hear from him. Even when he had a day off and she was working, he was required to send a daily Owl. Merlin help him if he didn't. Arguments, unavoidable nagging and if she was really cross and upset– no sex.

"_Nothing, zip," _he grumbled to himself, _"I'd be lucky to get a kiss goodbye for work."_

Finally it was his turn as he stepped forward into the fireplace. "Hackney," requested Ron, then tossed the floo powder at his feet while standing inside the fireplace.

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><p>As Ron made his way to Hermione's North East London flat his spirit was feeling a bit muddled. It wasn't as if he couldn't handle the investigation and apprehension of Dolores Umbridge. <em>"No that wasn't it at all," <em>he thought. It was the inescapable fact that once again he would have to explain the need to work long hours to his girlfriend. To say their relationship had soured the last few years since the War ended wouldn't be far off the mark. In fact, the constant nagging and arguments about the daily Owl messages had been driving him to places he never imagined he would go to. Efforts to avoid fighting led him to use half-truths and then outright lies on why he couldn't commit or where he really was in one form or another. It wasn't that he didn't want to. Far from it, he was an Auror in training for four years, and an Auror working on ongoing missions for the last three. He was always too broke, from being a poorly paid Ministry employee, to pay for an expensive romantic dinner.

To make matters worse after Hermione insisted he move out of the Burrow and find his own apartment, he was constantly struggling with money. But he really couldn't blame her for forcing him to get a new place of his own. Getting caught by his Mom in the middle of one of their late night sex-fest was one of the worst nights of his life. Hermione had forgotten to perform a silencing charm on his room and it seemed as if the whole house had trouble sleeping that night. George had jokingly claimed he was able to hear them all night via the hole where his ear once was.

"_Hopefully she won't be too angry with me," _Ron thought as he knocked on the door of her flat.

"Come in, Ron."

Ron wondered at the serious tone in her voice but managed to keep his expression blank as he casually entered her flat as he had done so many times in the past. What he saw made him nervous, confused and scared all at once because a very calm and serious looking Hermione was sitting at the empty dining room table, wearing a lovely black dress and a pearl necklace. She was wearing a modest amount of makeup that she usually reserved for when they were going out. He even noticed that her long hair had been tied back with a white bow. He started to panic as he tried to remember if he had promised to take her out.

"Are we... I mean... were we planning to go out tonight?" Ron stuttered, not sure what he had previously agreed to.

"No Ron, please take a seat," she requested quietly, and gave him a look that clearly said she wasn't surprised at Ron's inability to remember if they were going out.

Ron cautiously sat down at the table as Hermione stared at him, her expression way too calm for Ron's liking. He wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't come to his head. Instead he waited for her to begin speaking. Unfortunately, he didn't have to wait too long.

"Ron, as you know, we haven't been ... doing well together. I'm—"

"Because of us both working so hard," interrupted Ron, feeling a bit scared about where the conversation was going.

"Please Ron, let me finish," Hermione said, as if she had a whole speech planned out in her head.

"_Bloody hell, this isn't good," _Ron thought.

"I'm sure that in time you will see this as I do," Hermione continued. "Ron, Its time for us to move on. I feel like I've been waiting fourteen years of my life for you and all I get are excuses, half-truths and lies."

"What are you going on about?" Ron stared at Hermione, trying to figure out where this was all coming from.

"Ron, I'm talking about all the chances I've given you over the years and all the excuses you've given me in return. Every time I tried to talk about ANY of this with you, all that would happen is you'd cut me off and tell me that all you wanted was to have a good time or a relaxing night without any nagging."

Ron couldn't deny that last part.

"You didn't seem to care about what I wanted. How can any kind of long term and lasting relationship exist with no open communication? We both know this relationship has been dead for several months now so I think we need to end it and move on," Hermione firmly declared.

A feeling as if his insides were being twisted into knots began to travel up Ron's body and he couldn't focus enough to respond.

"I'm returning your key to your flat and I've already moved my things out."

_"Say something!"_ Ron's heart and brain angrily ordered, but words began to fail him as the twisting knots moved around his chest and heart.

"Maybe... if we just take a break then... after a while we can get back together." Ron felt as if his tongue weighed a hundred pounds.

"No Ron, it's NEVER going to happen – ever. We are never getting back together again and as soon as you recognize that the better off you will be!" Hermione stood up from the table, turned to the cabinet behind her, took a key from the top and dropped it on the table in front of Ron.

"Here's the key to your flat."

Ron's heart had dropped and his vision seemed to be going through a black hole. After a few second that felt like hours he mustered the last bit of false bravado that he had.

"I hope... I wish nothing but the best for you."

"Thank you, Ron. I have to go now so please leave."

Ron felt as if his legs would give out on him at any second but somehow he stood up from the table and made his way to the front door. Hermione didn't even offer him a goodbye hug as she opened the door for him.

"Hermione, can we-"Ron pleaded, hating the way his voice sounded to his ears.

"No Ron we can't. Have a nice life and be well."

Hermione slowly closed the door to her flat, leaving a heartbroken Ron standing motionless in the hall, still trying to figure out what had just happened.

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><p><strong>AN**: First, this was very painful to write. I know a few of you will say that Hermione is Out of Character. I respond with sadly no, she is not.


	3. Chapter 3: Bad News Comes in Threes

**Author's Note:** Ahh… a RANT is like a fine steak: juicy, wholesome, and raw. Okay Medium Rare. My point is - I miss it. Don't get me wrong I've done a few directed at a certain person but it's never as tasty as one where you shout it out to the masses. And let me tell you nothing beats a great steak.

Do you know what else is great? Reviews. Love them. I can't get enough of them. On my last story Dragonheart I had over 1100 reviews and counting. Not bad for something that was written over four years ago. Of course when you write a 55 chapter story you never have to deal with people that question your entire story and the characters after ONLY TWO CHAPTERS!

Now listen up newcomers, I don't write crappy stories that begin, middle, and end in one lousy chapter followed by another lousy and boring chapter that does the exact same thing. You will NOT understand everything on one chapter alone. I use a Plot, I use an Outline, I use a climax, I use character development, and I f-ing use creativity to cook the best damn steak that you'll ever eat. (Wait… this diet is bloody killing me.) Anyway, my point is not everything is going to be revealed at first. It takes time. I'm writing a Ron POV multi-chapter story, so you're not going to see his 4 years of mistakes with Hermione in one single chapter. Who actually wants to reads something like that? That would be like reading a history book in Latin about basket-weaving.

And another thing - knock it off with that stupid Hermione idol worshipping. Merlin! Too many girls/fans on this website worship at the altar of Hermione being flawless. Now that's Out of Character! What are you? A bunch of kooky Harmony fans? Didn't any of you read the books? Let me give you some real Canon knowledge about our favorite bookworm.

Book 6, Chapter 15, page 313 & 314, ""I like really good Quidditch players", Hermione corrected her, still smiling." "Ron looked strangely blank and said nothing. Harry was left to ponder in silence the depths to which girls would sink to get revenge."

Now that's canon and I can give you several other times that Hermione showed her mean streak toward Ron. So don't argue with me that Miss Perfect Mary-bloody-Poppins Hermione is more in character than the one I'm writing about. This isn't a Disney story. I'm not writing about Cinderella or Snow White. I'm writing about two characters that are still growing up and have well-documented cases of flaws and feuding with one another. Hermione may be a witch but she's still a 25 year old woman. You can also forget the idea of Hermione being a slut - that's beetle dung. I hate when unrealistic authors write about the Virgin Mary Hermione staying pure and noble for our red hair knight. Are you kidding me? What 25 year old heterosexual woman you know that hasn't been out with at least a few guys? I know for certain that ever 25 year old heterosexual man has been out with a few girls by that age. Plus, if you don't like it – then go to the Disney section and read that unrealistic princess-in-love crap. You're not going to get that dung here.

Finally before anyone else starts to shrill to me that the story is Out of Canon. Ron and Hermione do NOT get married until at least year 2005. The war ended in 1998, so that leaves a span of over 7 years. Is anyone willing to tell me during those long seven years that they didn't row and break-up at all during that time? Keep-in-mind Ron and Hermione rows are well-documented so it's not too big a stretch that they have a few more in the future/present. You see what they really need for them to be together is a big juicy steak.

_(… I got to go.)_

**Beta Note:** You know what is more interesting than a perfect person? I real person with flaws. Both Hermione and Ron are chalked full of flaws. That is what makes them compelling characters. Part of an interesting story is trusting the author. I think you should use some of that trust and enjoy the story!

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Bad News Comes in Threes<strong>

"Hoot."

For some reason, Ron felt himself losing the warm embrace of slumber.

"Hoot. Hoot."

He slowly opened his heavy eyelids to see the light of morning. What he also felt, other than his faithful owl, Pig, flying circles above his head was a new pounding sensation from his head.

"Ohhhhh," he moaned. His head felt like it was about to explode from a throbbing headache. He wasn't even sure why he felt like the way he did, but he knew there was probably a good reason.

"Hoot."

He moved over on his bed to get up but to his dismay, he felt nothing but air before hitting the wooden floor. The pain of the hard landing sent a knife through his throbbing head, only making his headache ten times worse. He agonizingly moved his hands over his forehead and gripped his head to keep it from splitting apart. Not that he would have minded it either, because it would've helped him to get rid of the massive pain his head.

"Hoot."

"Shut up, Pig, I'm awake already," he growled to his over-eager, feathery alarm clock.

Pig ignored his outburst and swooped down to his shoulder, beside his ear. "**Hoot!**"

He thrust his hand away from his forehead to smack his annoying owl.

"**Damn it, Pig, I'm BLOODY AWAKE!**"

"About time," commented a smooth voice from Ron's side as Pig flew off his shoulder and up to the safety of the rafters.

Ron slowly looked over his shoulder, wincing as he turned his head, and saw his best mate calmly sitting in his living room chair. Harry had a stern look plastered on his face as he watched him. Then Ron just realized that he wasn't in his bedroom but in the living room of his flat.

_How – how in the bloody hell did I end up here? _

The answer quickly came to Ron as he bumped into an empty bottle of Ogden's Fire Whiskey lying beside him on the floor next to the couch.

"I made some Anti-Hangover potion for you," said Harry, tossing Ron a small vial of green liquid.

"Thanks," mumbled Ron, as he tried to catch the vial but instead dropped it clumsily onto the cold wooden floor. Wincing again, he picked it up, and popped it open and swiftly gulped down the green potion. It felt like crystal salt scraping down his throat and pipe. After a minute of an aftertaste that reminded him of sweaty, smelly gym shoes and socks, he could start to feel the pressure in his head subside.

Unfortunately, Harry felt the need to be chatty as Ron struggled to stand up.

"You think maybe you can go to work today—"

"What time is it?" interrupted Ron before Harry could finish questioning him.

Harry scowled at him before answering. "Three-thirty. Three-thirty in the afternoon. Do I need to tell you what day it is as well?"

He knew from Harry's declaration of the time that he probably had to cover for him at the Ministry. He flashed Harry a look of apology as he made his way to the bathroom.

"You need to hurry and get dressed, there's been a break in the Umbridge case."

Ron looked in the mirror in the bathroom and tried to focus on his appearance. He was still wearing the same clothes from the day before. Frankly, he looked like shit and if his nose was right, he didn't smell too much better. There was also the added touch of his red hair pointing out at all different directions and whiskey stains all over his shirt.

_Bugger! _

"What, they caught her already?" growled Ron, as he started filling the bathroom sink full of cold water so he could dunk his head in.

"I wish. I'd let you sleep the day off for that! No, we got a couple of muggle sightings. They saw her leaving the hospital and going down a street. And get this – she wasn't alone." Harry snapped back, his voice dripping with anger. "When I get my hands on the basta—"

Ron interrupted, "You mean, **when I get them**."

"Don't start with me Ron. I've had enough of it with Kingsley."

Ron didn't argue with him as he dunked his head into the ice-cold water in the sink and magically slammed the bathroom door shut to take a long and needed whiz at the toilet.

After what felt like the longest record-making whiz on the planet, Ron re-emerged from the bathroom to find his best mate pouring himself a cup of coffee in his kitchen. He didn't have time to talk or eat; otherwise he would've fixed himself a stack of pancakes, five eggs, a half carton of pumpkin juice and a couple of biscuits for a much needed light snack before dinner.

Harry swallowed a little of his coffee before tossing Ron his trench coat. "It's foggy and raining today."

Ron nodded in reply as he put the coat on over his wrinkled clothes. He inhaled a breath of air before pulling out his wand to Apparate with Harry to downtown London. To his surprise, Harry was calmly watching him as he continued to drink his coffee.

"Aren't you coming? That's the reason why you're over here, right?"

Harry flashed him his trademark scowl before he sarcastically answered, "No, Ron. I'm waiting around here for you to solve the case."

"I was busy getting dumped by Hermione last night, so get off me," mumbled Ron.

The news did not even register a look of surprise from Harry as he responded, "I know. Ginny and I encouraged Hermione to do it."

_That cold hearted … Bloody Gits - All of them!_

"Grr…**Apparate!**" Ron barked aloud leaving his soon-to-be-ex best mate in his kitchen.

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><p><strong>Streets of London<strong>

As Ron watched Hit Wizards and Obliviators rounding up several Muggles for questioning and then memory modification, it was becoming obvious to him that his best mate and sister knew more about the real reason why Hermione had just dumped him then he did. He knew she was mad with him, but to flat out dump him for no good reason just didn't make any sense.

_Okay, I wasn't boyfriend of the year_, Ron thought to himself. _But I wasn't that bad! She's probably going through one of her stupid angry rows with me. Merlin, I wish they would end._

"Ron! Over here!" A familiar voice came from behind a crowd of reporters and bystanders interrupted his thoughts.

Ron walked through the crowd and made a left onto a dead end street that was surrounded by brick buildings on all three sides. He immediately saw a beige dumpster and next to that stood his fellow Auror and friend, Neville Longbottom. He was holding a rattling pair of Magical Auror cuffs but what concerned him was Neville's quizzical expression.

"They're not like Professor Moody's."

With one sentence Neville had clearly grasped that the cuffs in his possession were in fact "working" cuffs. Back when Harry, Neville, and Ron were going through Auror training a few years back, they were introduced to Auror Moody's magical cuffs. They were known to be the most feared cuffs in all of Great Britain. If Mad-Eye released them on you – you could bet the magical wrists-locks complete with deep iron black chains would hunt you down and arrest you. After that, nothing would matter. It was useless to try to escape. You couldn't use your wand; you couldn't so much as run away. The magical cuffs would magically drag you back to a waiting Mad-Eye and then to Azkaban. They were feared by everyone especially the Death Eaters as scores of them were captured by Mad-Eye Moody and his fearless magical cuffs during the first war. That was until the cuffs made the last and greatest arrest in its existence, in any magical cuffs existences, none other than Voldemort himself. Whatever spell Voldemort did that day, no one had been able to undo since. The entire Department of Mysteries tried for years to free the Magical cuffs from Voldemort's spell, but after that day they were nothing more than a frightened and shivering pair of magical cuffs, unwilling to be used for anything other than training.

What Neville had in his possession were definitely "working" cuffs eager to arrest the next criminal.

"Magical cuffs can only be unlocked by an Auror." An unnoticed Harry stated behind him.

"Bloody hell," mumbled Ron.

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><p><strong>AN:** Now don't you like multi-chapter stories better than a one chapter story? REVIEW!


	4. Chapter 4: Out on the Town

**Beta's Note: **Instead of ranting, let's talk about how great Neville Longbottom is. We all know it is true, so no need to hide it. He makes an appearance here which is why I mention it. He is super adorable of course. What else would he be? Go ahead, go read it. I promise it will be worth it. For Neville!

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: Out on the Town<strong>

As Ron rode the lift to level two inside the Ministry of Magic to his office, he couldn't help but think of Hermione. He was hoping that by the time he reached his desk, he would find a handwritten letter asking to talk or possibly a lunch date. In the past, she usually calmed down enough after a day or two and would request to see him. Of course, she had never officially broken up with him either so it was hard for Ron to gauge how serious she was this time. He didn't think that their relationship was beyond repair. He knew he had screwed up and he'd probably have to swing for an expensive dinner or two but that was what he'd normally do anyway. As for the way she had treated him, he wasn't going to hold a grudge or be a git about it. In his eyes it was just more of the same, "dance," they did. Ron couldn't even remember when they weren't arguing with one another in some form or fashion. Years of it gave him the strength never to hold a long-term grudge with Hermione, no matter what the circumstances were. Life was too short and besides who hadn't gone and yelled at someone they loved? If he saw a letter on his desk then he decided he would simply forget about the night before.

_Won't even be mad with her, _Ron declared to himself. _I'll just write it up as her having another one of her bad days. Just another, "That time of the month"… Merlin she can be a miserable pain when…_

The lift swiftly stopped on level two and as Ron started to step out he came face-to-face with an equally surprised Harry. Almost immediately, Ron sensed that Harry seemed to be doing his best not to appear awkward or unfriendly.

"Hi Ron," Harry said, sounding way too cheerful for Ron's liking. "Kingsley is waiting for us in his office. He wants a de-briefing from yesterday."

Normally something this mundane wouldn't raise his suspicions but knowing Harry like he did, he felt that Harry was hiding something from him. Adding to the fact that Harry helped engineer Hermione's break up with him, he wasn't feeling very trusting of his best mate.

"In a second, I need to stop by my desk and…"

Harry, still blocking his path to the hallway that led to their office, interrupted with a bit of unsettling news. "I didn't see any er… messages for you on your desk."

Anger quickly rose up in Ron because not only was he angry that Hermione hadn't sent him a message, but also that Harry was well aware of the reason he wanted to stop in the office.

"Who said anything about a message?" Ron barked loudly enough for the people in the hallway to hear.

"Fine, see for yourself!" Harry retorted, and he shrugged as he stepped out of Ron's way, "Get up to Kingsley's office as soon as you're done."

Ron said nothing in reply as he left the lift and made his way down the hallway to his office inside the Auror Headquarters. The door magically opened to reveal the usual office inhabitants of Aurors. Each was sitting behind their Ministry approved metallic gray desk with only a small four and a half foot cubicle wall separating them from one another. Ron often commented to whomever who could hear, that his office was nothing more than a rat maze. On the walls were various wanted posters for ex-Death Eaters, ex-Snatchers, and super criminals of all shape and sizes. The most prominent wanted poster was Rabastan Lestrange, brother of Rodolphus and brother-in-law to Bellatrix. Until Dolores made her escape, he was their number one most wanted. The others weren't as prominent or as dangerous as Rabastan was but they were no less important to arrest. The others were Jacob Black, a baby-killing werewolf from Sussex and alleged murderer of three Ministry employees from the Werewolf Capture unit. Mark Zealand, a half-wizard half-troll from East London with an absurd taste for Aquavirius Maggots. That in of itself wasn't dangerous, but killing old homeless Muggles to harvest the eggs inside of their brains was. Then there was Brian the Nose-picker Goblin, who was last spotted in Ireland, stealing half of the country's Guinness beer. Apparently, the nose-picker nom de guerre wasn't about him picking his own nose. He earned that name by literally ripping off the nose of a Wizard or Muggle to suck out the boogers as if he was eating candy.

In the center of all this stood his small, gray desk. On the worned out top of his desk, he kept a small portrait of Harry, Hermione and himself. Unfortunately, the Hermione in the portrait was resolutely staring away from a pleading Ron who was begging for her forgiveness while Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head. Next to the portrait was his greatest treasure of all, a historical, one-of-a-kind orange emblazoned iron cannon ball with a double "C" printed in the center.

_This is our year. We can finally beat those stupid Magpies, _Ron thought to himself about his beloved Chudley Cannons, as he casually strolled over to his desk via the maze of cubicle walls and wanted posters. _And Gavin is a shoe-in for Most Valuable Player of the League. Everyone knows it._

He noticed Neville popping his head over his cubicle wall, waiting to talk to him. Neville had inherited the cubicle next to Ron after Harry had been promoted to Senior Auror and given a private corner office, complete with a window. In a weird way, he and Neville had more in common than he did with Harry. Both of them were barely surviving on an Auror's salary and both were thinking about leaving the Ministry for better paying jobs. Ron had gotten offer after offer from his brother George to come to work with him at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and Neville was thinking about working with his girlfriend Hannah Abbott at The Leaky Cauldron or trying to land his dream job as Professor of Herbology at Hogwarts.

"Ron, I just got a Magical Abuse Incident report from St. Mungo's," said Neville.

"What about?" asked Ron as he gazed over his desk in hopes that he would find a letter or message from Hermione.

"Several patients and staff members were suffering from the effects of a love potion. They traced it back to a muffin tray in the Reception area."

"That would be an excellent place to put it," Ron surmised, as he remembered all the times he saw his co-worker drinking coffee and eating a muffin in the mornings. "Whoever did it, knew Dawlish would see it and take one."

Neville nodded his head before adding, "-and get this. According to the statements from the Muggle witnesses, the baker that delivered the tray of muffins resembles the one of the wizards that was seen leaving with Umbridge."

"Who in the hell would bother to break out Umbridge? She's a bloody Gnome – useless!" Ron asked aloud.

Neville could only shrug his shoulders before he softly patted Ron on the back.

"Oh, and I'm sorry to read about you breaking up with Hermione. I always thought you two were made for each other."

"What?" Ron asked, stunned that Neville already knew about his private life.

Neville looked a bit taken aback with Ron's reaction and tried again to console him.

"Your breakup with Hermione."

"How did you know?"

Neville's eyes opened wide as he hesitantly handed Ron a copy of his The Daily Prophet edition.

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><p><em>Celebrity gossip writer Glenda Chittock discovered Hermione Granger, famous war hero and dedicated friend of Harry Potter, enjoying a romantic dinner at The Palms last night. On her arm was none other than the dreamy Witch Weekly's most eligible bachelor Derrick Braunstein. Derrick is a successful private practice Healer from West London. Ms. Chittock was lucky enough to be able to snap a photograph of the lovebirds kissing in the secluded island paradise section of the restaurant. When asked how long they have been seeing one another a blushing Miss Granger answered it had been for a few weeks. She later corrected herself and confessed that this was their first date after several weeks of corresponding with one another. …..<em>

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><p>A red haze descended in front of Ron's eyes as he slowly read every bloody word of betrayal. By the time he had finished reading the article, he didn't even notice Neville had extinguished the now burnt portrait on his desk nor his Chudley Cannon's cannon ball that magically split in half.<p>

"That lying two-faced witch!" an extremely livid Ron declared, for the entire office to hear.

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><p><strong>AN:** Spare me the reviews that Hermione is OOC. I ranted about that already. This is Ron's POV and you won't get Hermione's perspective until later chapters.


	5. Chapter 5: junior personnel

**Author's Note:** I just want to say thank you for the reviews and I've done my best to PM (private message) each of you. So if you haven't seen it then please check out your Inbox in FF.

In addition, I'm going to shift gears a bit and start writing 2000 to 2500 word chapters. When you write these chapters out in MS Word with 5 to 6 pages you think it reads a lot, and then you post it on Fanfiction. At that point, it starts looking like I wrote the chapter out on a restaurant napkin or a post it note. I really didn't… mainly because I'm a messy eater and I need the napkin to wipe my shirt. (Stupid soy sauce dripping off my sushi) Moreover, my co-workers keep stealing my Post it notes. So… no I didn't, but I will start to write a bigger chapter from this point on.

Also once again I need to correct some reviewers about Hermione Granger. I will state **CANON** from **JK Rowling's website** in **Extra Stuff** (the brush) - **Characters** - **Hermione Granger**.

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><p>"<em>... but I hope that it is clear that underneath Hermione's swottiness there is a lot of insecurity and a great fear of failure (as shown by her Boggart in 'Prisoner of Azkaban').<em>" ~ JK Rowling

**FYI: Swottiness** = studiousness, the state of studying hard. (UK term)

In Character and Cannon = Hermione carries a great deal of insecurity and a great fear of failure.

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><p><strong>READ THE BLOODY BOOKS!<strong>

**Beta's Note:** I would like to think that at this point, we have all come to regard the characters of Harry Potter as friends from spending so much time with them. That being said, you disagree with the actions of your friends sometimes and even fight with them. Rather than protecting them like sacred beings, maybe that should be kept in mind.

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><p><strong>Chapter 5: "junior personnel"<strong>

_Derrick!_ Ron angrily voiced to himself as he stared at the 5 foot 10 pasty white face, blondish dyed hair, and skinny frame of a man. His expensive Muggle suit screamed money and his smarmy smile to the cameras screamed git as he escorted a blushing Hermione into the Palms Restaurant.

The small moving wizard picture on the "celebrity sightings" page in the Daily Prophet was clear enough to him to notice that Hermione was wearing the same dress, the same makeup and the same jewelry that she had worn the night before when she had broken up with him.

_"Thank you, Ron. __I have to go now__ so please leave." _Only now did Ron remember what Hermione had so anxiously told him.

"**FIRE! All the wanted posters are on Fire!**" Shouted someone from a few feet away from where Ron was sitting, which he didn't pay any attention to at all.

Ron focused on nothing but the article in front of him as he looked up the opening time of the Restaurant.

"**You think it's the Maintenance department doing this,**" shouted another unknown voice from somewhere else inside the office.

_Here it is: eight o'clock. _

"**Meteolojinx Recanto!** It doesn't work," an unknown witch screamed. "It can't be the Maintenance department."

_I got at Hermione's about seven…_

"**Try the Extinguishing Spell**," another voice roared out.

_I left after ten, twenty minutes - tops. _

"That's working," yelled a much calmer voice.

_Then she must've_…

"**NOPE! ****They're**** on fire again**," bellowed the once calmer voice.

_Less than an hour! She went on a bloody date in less than an hour after breaking up with me!_

"**NO USE! EVERYONE OUT OF THE OFFICE**," commanded someone.

Ron felt someone shaking his shoulder. He took his inaccessible view off the Daily Prophet to notice a nervous looking Neville shouting at him.

"**Ron, you're setting the walls on fire!**" Neville mind-bogglingly shouted to him.

"What?" Ron asked as he was confused on why all the posters in the office were on fire and everyone else was fighting to get out the office door.

Neville slid the Daily Prophet out from his hands as he apologized. "I'm sorry Ron, I thought you knew." He then rescued the office by performing an Extinguish charm on all the posters and walls.

Ron meekly said nothing as all his dishevel colleagues were either at the office door or outside of it, angrily staring at him.

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><p><strong>Twenty minutes later<strong>

Somehow, some way Ron found himself on the lift going up to Level One to see Kingsley. It wasn't really sinking in that he have to give a report to the Minister of Magic as all his mind could focus on was the blushing look of Hermione clinging to another man's arm. He hadn't seen her smiling like that since they first started dating. The realization of that fact was making his stomach turn into knots. Moreover, his mouth felt like he had swallowed a dry cotton ball and his fists were shaking and tightening between bouts of anger and fear. Worse, his own legs seemed to be disappearing as he started looking around the lift for a bench to sit down upon before his legs completely gave out.

He could barely dry mouth mumble, "bloody Derrick is a private healer," as he leaned against the lift for support.

His long suppressed monetary insecurities roared to the forefront once more, as he realized how little he was making as opposed to a successful healer in private practice. He couldn't even imagine how much money Derrick made in a month's time or just how big a flat he owned. _He probably has one of those huge fancy libraries that Hermione always wanted. _

He inwardly groaned before he refocused his thoughts on being dumped by Hermione for a more successful bloke. _She had this bloke lined up weeks in advance._ _She's not the type to do this on a whim… never did anything without a carefully thought-out plan. That's why she dumped me! Why would she want a loser when she can have an uber-rich snobby Healer. He probably goes around drinking all those fancy French Wizards wine. _

"Too good for a pint he is." He snorted in contempt.

The lift finally opened and he willed himself to stagger down the hallway through the swarming hive of pale-violet interdepartmental memo paper airplanes. They were speedily flying to and from, up and down, sideways and diagonal to the various Ministry offices with little concern for crashing into Ron. It was until he reached the Grand Foray into the Minister of Magic's office that he was finally able to see another person. That person was none other than a very flustered looking Harry standing by the entrance, unhappy at having to wait for him.

_Harry, he knew. __**He knew the whole bloody time!**_ Ron angrily thought as a rush of power and adrenaline raced through his body.

"Ron, if you're done being an immature git; we need to hurry. Kingsley is wait-" Harry rudely snapped not noticing Ron balling up his fists and swinging toward his glasses.

**Crack**. Ron's fist came hammering on Harry's right side of his face and as he punched through he could hear the pop of skin on bone. Immediately Harry's glasses went flying in an opposite direction off his face as Harry twisted his head away from the impact of Ron's fist.

"**You knew all along!**" Ron roared in contempt. "**You bloody lied to me about the whole cheating affair!**"

Harry by now had recovered and started shouting back as Ron slammed his other fist deep into Harry's gut.

"**Ron! I didn't know...oohf!**"

Ron was about to shout back to him that he was lying, but quickly picked up on Harry reaching for his wand from within his Auror Ministry robes. By that he meant if Harry pulled it out and used it Ron would be the one getting the beating. He knew the reason why, right after Voldemort's death, Harry had repaired his wand with the Elder wand. In doing so Harry's wand must've absorbed a good bit of the Elder wand's "unbeatable" powers. This meant when Harry dueled with you – you lost. Plain and simple. Ron had first-hand knowledge of that fact when training with Harry in dueling during their early years of being an Auror. He always came out on the losing end and that didn't do nothing but fuel his sidekick reputation as incompetent in comparison to the Chosen-One. It was an attitude that most people always seemed to have about him. He never told the truth to anyone but Hermione, but whenever they would work together as a team and capture a Death Eater or an ex-snatcher Harry was the hero. Harry was the one who received the universal praise and promotion for 'single-handily' capturing said Death Eater or ex-Snatcher. As for Harry's sidekick assistant … if he was lucky, all he would get was a mention in the Daily Prophet with his bloody name misspelled.

Ron stopped punching and grabbed Harry's arm before he could pull out his wand.

"**Let go**," yelled an enraged Harry trying to push back against Ron.

By now both of them had been pushing and hitting one another back out into the hallway where the interdepartmental memo paper airplanes were flying everywhere. It didn't take long for Harry to get the upper hand as he used his hips to spin Ron around his body and straight down to the marble floor.

"Oi," Ron softly groaned as he landed hard on his back.

By now, Harry had resolutely pulled out his wand and pointed it squarely at his chest. Luckily for him at that very moment, a descending memo paper airplane crashed into Harry's left eye forcing him to drop his wand and cover his left eye with his hand.

"Ow!" Harry growled at the stupid memo struggling to regain its flight.

Ron seized the lucky break by power swinging his legs and kicking Harry's legs out from under him. He then tried to stand back up with the swarming memos paper airplanes flying all around him. Nonetheless by now he could barely see Harry as the mother-of-all-air-traffic memos caring Holiday leave requests from the entire Ministry swirled all around them.

"**You bloody git, I only told her to take a break!**" Harry shouted to him as Ron could tell he was frantically looking for his wand on the marble floor.

Of course, Ron wasn't buying it and said as much back to him. "**What by dating this bloody Derrick?**"

To Ron's horror Harry didn't even respond as he saw him reach out and seize his wand like the Gryffindor seeker that he was.

"**Ron! Harry! Protego!**"

A shielding charm cast around them opening up a huge eye in the storm of pale-violet memos. Into this memo maelstrom walked none other than his Father and his older brother Percy. Both were carrying a concerned look as his Father spoke to the both of them.

"Boys, we are at work..." Arthur began in a highly disappointed tone.

Percy, never missing the chance to be a Ministry stooge, jumped in.

"On the Minister of Magic's doorsteps no less."

Even his Father had to beam a hard look back at Percy to shut up before finishing.

"Whatever disagreement we have. We settle them at the Burrow – is that understood."

Ron felt a bit ashamed of his actions and reluctantly accepted the reprimand by nodding yes and even though Harry wasn't exactly an official Weasley yet with his own room at the Burrow. He was in all but name a surrogate son to his Dad and family member. Harry also reluctantly nodded yes as he slowly put away his wand.

"Good. I know why this happened but you two still need to work it out. We'll talk about it later." His dad ordered before stepping out of the eye that he created to go back to his office.

Percy no longer able to be silent chimed in. "Ron, Come along we're almost late and I'm never late meeting the Minister."

Percy led the way with his wand out creating a bubble for them to travel through back to the Minister's office. Ron said nothing and he knew Harry was going to say nothing to him either. By the time they reached the Minister of Magic's office door it was Percy that broke the ice.

"Okay Ron, remember we're in a meeting with the Minister so... Harry, what are you doing here?"

Percy gazed quizzically at Harry standing beside him.

"Perce, I'm going into the meeting." Harry snapped back in frustration as it was obvious to why he was there.

Like a Rooster stiffening his neck to announce the arrival of the sun, Percy responded. "No you're not. This meeting is between the Minister, myself, as deputy department head of administration, and lead investigator Ronald. No other junior personnel will be attending."

Ron couldn't help himself as he smirked over at an enraged Harry. Not only did Percy resolutely refuse for him to attend but he called Harry a "junior personnel". Something he was quite sure that no one had ever called Harry before.

"I'm a Senior Auror..."

"And I ordered you to step aside for this one," interrupted the Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt appearing at the door of his office.

Ron face widened from a smirk to a genuine smile at a flustered Harry's expense.

"Kingsley, I have every right to be in there." A wounded Harry retorted to a very resolute Kingsley.

"Harry, go back to your office." Commanded Kingsley with the final words on the subject while stepping aside and opening the door for a parading Percy and himself to walk through.

Ron took a final shot at a silently fuming Harry as he mouthed "junior personnel" to him before escaping to the safety of the Minister's lavish office.

After Percy and Ron took their seats in the plush chairs in front of the Minister's desk, Kingsley took his seat behind his Royal Oak desk. Only then did Percy, observing proper office etiquette, initiate the conversation with Kingsley.

"I understand from Audrey that your wife has been planning a family trip to Egypt during the New Years."

Ron looked a bit absent as the pointless banter carried on around him. He was hoping that eventually it wouldn't take too long to get to the part in the conversation on why they were really there.

"Yes, I've always wanted to magical carpet ride down the Nile at night past the Pyramids and, _blagh, blagh, blagh_" A listless Ron thought he heard him say.

"That would be smashing –"

_Can he get anymore kiss arse, is it possible?_ Ron thought of his ambitious brother Percy.

"- the kids are really excited about the..."

Bzzz.

Ron's attention was recaptured by a soft noise coming over from the walls as a power loving Percy and a free talking Kingsley were busily talking about his upcoming family vacation.

_It sounded like my Knut-hole maker_. Ron thought to himself of his latest and greatest contribution to the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

The Knut-hole maker being a small wooden core no bigger than the size of a wine cork that you put up against a wall and it would magically open up a Knut size hole for you to peep through. He got the idea after visiting Ginny after one of her matches. She was the Reserve Seeker for the Holyhead Harpies. After the match, Harry and Ron had to wait outside the locker room because the showers and locker room were off-limits for all men. At the time, he couldn't help to wonder what it would be like to see all the girls - _except his sister_, taking showers. Another great thing about the Knut-hole maker was the fact that it was able to bend the magical wards around the hole without alerting suspicion that you were ravishingly staring at 14 gorgeous women... minus his sister... _taking glistening hot steamy showers_... not that he ever field tested one the next time he visited Ginny at work... _it's amazing how the soap bubbles softly caress their_-

"I remember when Ronald and I visited the Sphinx... blagh, blagh, blagh..." Percy blabbered on about awakening Ron from his randy memories.

Ron's eyes refocused on the walls around him and he happened to see a small flesh color string magically snaking around one of the end tables near the Minister's desk.

"We're hoping to visit some of her relatives... blagh, blagh, blagh"

Ron softly got up from his chair and tenderly stepped over to the end table. By doing so it had ended the rubbish banter between Kingsley and Percy as they were both staring rather strangely over at him. The string seemed to notice the halt in conversation too as it completely froze from moving closer to them. With one swift motion Ron grabbed the string and using his entire body and strength yanked the string forward.

**Bop**.

Ron knowingly smirked to himself as the outer wall with several former Ministers' portraits hanging on them bounced from a sudden impact behind it.

"My word it's an earthquake," voiced Cornelius Fudge's portrait as he rubbed the back of his head from where the wall had bounced against his portrait.

Ron released the string and shouted, "**Backstabbing git**," at the human-like Ear attached to the end of the string as it magically retreated the Minister's office via the Knut-hole.

"Merlin," exasperated Kingsley no doubt realizing what Ron had just done and to whom was on the other end of the Extendable Ears.

Ron triumphantly looked back to see Kingsley rolling his eyes and Percy completely flabbergasted at what had just happened.

"Ron, what's the latest?" Kingsley requested ending whatever friendly chitchat Percy was no doubt wanting to continue with.

Ron exhaled a bit before speaking professionally in a vain attempt to at least appear to be professional from this point on.

"We just found out that St. Mungos received a basket of tainted love potion muffins before Dawlish arrived with Umbridge. The bakery deliveryman matched the Muggle eyewitness sighting of them leaving by the back alley."

"They knew Dawlish would pick one up." Kingsley grumbled. "Do we have any current sightings of Dolores?"

By "_current_", Ron knew what he really meant, "_Why haven't we already caught her_".

"No sir, I had Neville assign a Hit Wizard team to her house that she lived in. Plus, I've sent out a team to her only living relative, an Aunt Tess, in Hogsmeade. She hasn't shown up to either one. Plus, I don't think she will with what we know now, but I did put up some wards to tip us off if she does."

"This is going to be a disaster for us in the press," Kingsley affirmed as he rubbed his forehead with his hand. No doubt a headache from stress was building up inside him. "Percy, your report."

Percy snapped to attention as he excitedly opened his huge leather folder to read his report.

"We cross-checked every previous and current Auror's location at the time of the er... disappearance—"

Percy was calling it a "_disappearance_" versus an escape as a subtly way of keeping Kingsley headache from growing.

"—and they were all accounted for. Unless someone was using a Polyjuice Potion we can equivocally rule out any Ministry of Magic personnel with the ability to unlock Madam Umbridge's magical cuffs."

"Tell that to the Press," grumbled Kingsley.

Percy didn't seem surprised with Kingsley frustration of the press in fact he carried his opinion. Which wasn't a surprise to Ron as he sure his brother carried whatever opinion the Minister carried.

"That lot has been misguided and irresponsible since the day you took office."

Kingsley ignoring Percy sucking up said, "Ron, I'll alert the Muggle Prime Minister and..."

Ron interrupted, "Sir, I don't think that will be of much help. Someone magical has gone to a great deal of trouble to release her from Azkaban. Can either one of you think of whom in the Ministry would help her?"

Judging from both Kingsley and Percy softly chuckling at his question, he had a feeling the answer was no.

"Haha, no, Ron. Dolores was a sycophant tyrant if there ever was one."

To Ron's surprise even Percy chipped in. "At first I thought she was a rather pleasant woman, but it wasn't until later... I thought she was a Death Eater. I really did."

"In all, but name. No she never was one, but certainly a pure-blood sympathizer." Kingsley offered.

"Perhaps sir... maybe we could ask one of them about her. This could even help us solve our other problem." Percy suggested to Kingsley without revealing to Ron what the "other" problem was.

"Hmm... worth a shot." Kingsley deliberated on Percy's idea.

"What other problem and ask whom," inquired Ron looking at both of them.

Percy looking prouder than ever that the Minister liked his idea and said nothing. It took a few seconds until Kingsley offered, "For right now, Ron you don't need to worry about that."

Ron started to feel like a "junior personnel" himself as his brother and boss were going to keep out of the loop as to what was going on.

"Now Ron I'm going to need you to update the club—"

"What? Sir, no. This is a Ministry of Magic investiga—"

"I know," popped Kingsley flustered at having to order Ron to do it. "We're going to need their help and... she wants you to be there after classes end."

Percy still beaming from the Minister liking his idea said nothing to help him, thus leaving him with no choice but to agree with the Minister's request.

"Yes sir."

"Good man, and say hello to Hagrid for me."

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><p><strong>AN**_: _Okay, I went way over. Blame my Beta. **Review!**


	6. Chapter 6: Living with it

**Author's Rant:** It's time for another RANT. Yeah... tough. In the next chapter you will read some, (note some), of the reasons why Hermione dumped Ron. Now I'm not going to get into too much detail... AS THAT TAKES AWAY FROM THE STORY... but I will bring up a very important topic. **Breakups! ** Love them; hate them depending on which side you fall, they are an integral part of adult social behavior. Take our poor Ron for example. He gets dumped. Some may say that he got rudely or too harshly dumped by Hermione... and he did... I hope I conveyed that. However, when you think about it, it really doesn't matter, the (insert adjective) that you use in front of "dump". The final product of being cruelly dumped, hastily dumped, insensitively dumped, etc. is still the same. Quite simply - He got dumped and nothing is going to subtract or add to that. Certainly not magic, not a time-changer, not a jump ball for her love before the big dance... nothing will ever change the final outcome.

What makes matters worse is that Ron is going to; borrowing a poker term, go "All In". By that I mean he's going to declare his true and undying love for Hermione. Perhaps a few of you have done this to your significant partners and you know how committed and vulnerable you feel at the time. You also know what I mean when I say there's nothing left to throw into the pot. That's it. You can't re-raise. You got everything committed. You're left hoping that you have the winning hand and everything works out.

Then it's played out and you discover the heartache of having the second-best hand. The Losing Hand. Now at this point you can accept that you lost, shake the winners hand and calmly walk out with your dignity still intact. Or you can go for the sore loser route, by beating up the winner, falsely arresting him and tossing his rich butt into Azkaban. After all, they say – "All is fair in Love and War."

Let's be honest, we've all been here at this crossroads of heartache. For Ron this is a crucial moment in his life that will forever shape his future (and my story). He will have to choose on what path he takes, not Hermione. She has already made her choice and will have to live with it. Now it's Ron's turn...

**Beta's Notes:** Going back to Hogwarts is something that I am sure we would all like to do, but I am sure it is also something that has to be awkward. I know when I last visited my old school, it was the weirdest sensation. I can only imagine that it would be even more irritating for a man who just went through a rough break-up. In that case, let's all enjoy a suitable awkward chapter.

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><p><strong>Chapter 6: Living with it<strong>

To say he was a boiling cauldron of emotions would be as dangerous as underestimating the true size of a dragon. The problem was it wasn't just one emotional ingredient of fear or desire or anger or hurt that was predominant in his thoughts. To his own detriment, they were all forming a swirling pattern of emotions leaving him incapable of anything but the most basic tasks. The task at hand was him walking solemnly past the statues of winged boars by the front gate. To his right he semi-noticed the Giant Squid lazily crossing the lake. He looked over and upwards to barely make out the castle towers through the Scottish fog that instantly brought back childhood memories that seemed lost to him since he left school so many years ago.

_Meeting Harry and Hermione on the Hogwarts Express, getting sorted into Gryffindor, fighting a troll booger Mountain Troll, meeting Fluffy... _

Ron muttered to himself, "Can't believe Hagrid named that monster Fluffy. Mental he is."

_Then there was the Forbidden Forests detentions, sacrificed myself on the Wizard's chess, landing on top of the Whomping Willow with my father's car. _

"That bloody tree never did forgive me for that."

Ron looked over to his left and he could swear the tree was pointing and shaking a branch menacingly at him.

_The bloody Chamber of Secrets, going into the Forbidden Forest to meet Aragog..._

"Ooooo," shivered Ron, the memories of Aragog's family wanting to eat Harry and him, all coming back to him as if it had happened yesterday.

_Hogsmeade trips with Hermione, being scared with an inch of my life at Sirius Black waking me up to stab Scabbers. _

"Wish he had," Ron said, years after-the-fact.

_The Quidditch World Cup, the Triwizard tournament, the Yule Ball..._

Ron softly groaned, as he made his way inside the castle, with the thought of how beautiful Hermione Granger had looked even back then. She was always beautiful to him, especially when she dressed up. If he was honest with himself, he would even admit that she looked beautiful on the night she broke up with him and went on a date with Derrick. The problem was his hurt from her betrayal was going to make him a liar for the rest of his life.

As he made his way up the marble staircase in the Entrance Hall to the first floor, the smell of fresh bread from the Great Hall made his stomach rumble a bit. He reminded himself to stop in the kitchen on his way out. It wasn't until he reached the seventh floor that his thoughts shifted away from sneaking into the kitchen to having to deal with the echoing voice that was coming from down the hallway.

"Thank you, Professor."

Ron turned the corner and immediately noticed Hermione, even though her back was to him, having a private conversation with Professor 'Pompous Git' Horace Slughorn.

"My dear – it's nothing. I was certain that you and Derrick would hit it off. His mother, Bev, was one of my first club members and I don't mind telling you, she's quite successful in the Dragon fertilizer business."

Ron stopped dead in his tracks as a wave of murderous rage swept over him. Professor Slughorn always bragged about his connections with various influential past students and it never failed to enrage Ron.

"I'd be so bold to say my dear that I wouldn't be surprised before long to read in the gossip section of certain... announcement."

Without even realizing what he was doing, Ron had pulled his wand out from his Auror Ministry robes and red sparks of magic were already crackling from the tip. Hermione's shoulders flinched as the noise and light must've made her sense Ron's presence. As usual, Slughorn was the exact opposite as he completely ignored Ron as if he weren't in the hallway twenty paces away, in full sight with a wand pointed straight at him.

"Professor, we've just met," said a tense Hermione, moving closer to the unsuspecting Professor who was just near moments away from death. "There are no plans and he's not my boyfriend," retorted Hermione a bit louder and it seemed to Ron as if she wanted him to hear exactly what she was saying.

She kept looking back over her shoulder at Ron, noticing that his wand was pointing dead straight at the both of them.

"Don't you worry, my dear, it's just a matter of time. I am certain of it. An old man can sense these things."

Immediately Hermione's eyes darted to Ron and then back to Professor Slughorn. She quickly acted by stepping behind him in order to shield him from Ron's wand. She followed up by pushing the professor into a broom closet for his own safety. If it weren't for Peeves making the most untimely of visits, then Ron would've already hit the pair of them with the most deserving of hexes.

"Ooh, why it's Weasel King. Weasel King is back. Did you miss your dear old friend, Peeves?" Peeves cackled, wearing his outlandish clothes and bell-covered hat with a blinking Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes sticker on the side of it.

Ron ignored the pesky poltergeist, stepped to his left, pointed his wand and sent a well-timed hex right at the cantankerous Professor, who was being shoved into a broom closet by a frightened Hermione.

"Eat slugs," croaked Ron.

"**Miss Granger**... **BLAUGH!**" Professor Slughorn shouted to Hermione and then vomited a slimy red slug directly onto her long gray dress.

By then Ron had already turned back toward the Headmistress' office and stormed away from a truly disgusted and furious Hermione who was still dealing with a retching Professor…

"**BLAUGH!"**

"**RONALD!"**

... and a very delighted but slightly confused Poltergeist wailing with laughter.

* * *

><p>By every right and law that he could think of he shouldn't be here. Certainly not in front of a very displeased ex-girlfriend who was clearly biding her time for an opportunity to yell at him. Adding to Hermione was his own mother, calmingly sipping tea in a nearby armchair, no doubt secretly plotting about the best way to give him a haircut after the meeting. Next to his Mum was his old Herbology Professor, Madam Pomona Sprout, busily nibbling away on a basket of cinnamon butterscotch scones. Beside Professor Sprout on the couch sat Neville's Grandmother, Augusta Longbottom, still wearing that ridiculous hat with a stuffed vulture on top of it. He wouldn't say that aloud though. <em>Dawlish still gripes to this day of the mauling he got from her during the Second War.<em>

Sitting beside Mrs. Longbottom on the couch sat Kingsley's wife, Elizabeth Shacklebolt. She was a newcomer to the club and a remarkable witch in her own right. She was owner and professional baker of Sugarplum's Sweet Shop in Diagon Alley. No doubt she was the one that brought in the scones that Professor Sprout was currently eating. Sitting in the back of the Headmistress' office was Gwenog Jones, Professional Quidditch player and Captain of the Holyhead Harpies. She looked as out of place in a Sewing club as he did.

_You would think if Ginny was in such a hurry for me to get dumped by Hermione that she at least talk me up with her fellow sister teammates_. Ron angrily thought as he noticed Gwenog seemed to view him as nothing but a Ministry stooge.

Ron refocused his view and thoughts back towards the front of the Headmistress' where behind a huge marble topped desk, a very proper and regal Minerva McGonagall sat, sipping Grey Earl tea.

"Mr. Weasley, does the Ministry have any current leads on Dolores Umbridge?"

_Straight to the point as always_, Ron thought of his old Transfiguration Professor.

"No ma'am. We have no active leads as to her current whereabouts."

"What of the other suspects spotted with her outside of St. Mungos?" Hermione inquired, setting aside her hostilities for a moment.

Ron ignored her question, said nothing and directed his gaze towards Professor McGonagall.

The office was filled with the sound of several Headmasters' portraits snoring in sleep, the soft purring of McGonagall tabby cat sitting in the corner of the room, and the small chewing sounds of Professor Sprout nibbling on her scones.

Hermione, pointedly cleared her throat to gain his attention, repeated her question. "Ronald, what of the suspects helping Umbridge escape?"

Ron continued to say nothing as he stood at attention, his eyes squarely on Headmistress McGonagall. After a few more seconds, the Headmistress broke the impasse by asking the exact same question Hermione had asked.

"Do we have any information concerning them, Mr. Weasley?"

Ron immediately responded, "No ma'am, not at this time."

To Ron's surprise it was Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's portrait that asked the next question. "Ronald my boy, have you inquired about the possibility of her escaping to the continent?"

Ron immediately responded to him as well. "We haven't as of yet, Headmaster. But why in the hell would anyone from the continent want to help her bloody escape?"

Ron noticed Headmistress McGonagall make a face that told him she could think of a reason why. He also heard a soft voice from behind him interject, "Language, Ron." He ignored this and made a resolution to himself that he would say "_bloody this"_ and "_bloody that"_ completely out of spite for the rest of the meeting.

Diplomatically his Mum spoke next, "Have we… I mean has the Ministry notified the International Confederation of –"

Mrs. Longbottom jumped on his Mum's suggestion before she even finished saying it.

"Because they've been so helpful in the past. Ha!"

Ron had to admit she was right about that. The International Confederation of Wizards was about as useful as a flobberworm since the Second War. Which seemed a bit surprising to a great many because during the Second War, Voldemort had carried out numerous murders throughout Great Britain and the continent of Europe. At the time the Confederation was more concerned with cauldron thickness regulations. To this day, Trade laws were more important to them than assisting with the capture of ex-Death Eaters.

"Does Umbridge have any relatives' out-of-country?" Hermione doggedly inquired.

Ron crossed his arms and looked straight ahead at Headmistress McGonagall steadfastly refusing to talk directly with Hermione. McGonagall rolled her eyes at the both of them before answering Hermione herself.

"I never heard Dolores speak of any relative. Did you Pomona?"

Ron looked over his shoulder to see a startled Professor Sprout swallowing her scone before answering. "No, I never did Minerva. Naturally, she was about as sociable to those below her station as a Venomous Tentaculas."

Ron knew from his official Ministry records that Umbridge did indeed have a relative, but because someone other than Hermione didn't directly ask him, he wasn't going to tell them anything.

_This is a Sewing club for Merlin's sake, _Ron rebelliously thought, thoroughly annoyed at having to brief them about his investigation.

Undeniably, as Sewing clubs go it certainly didn't involve sewing. It was quite obvious that this was nothing more than a private club of the who's who of witches; the most powerful and influential witches in all of Great Britain to be precise. All of them, except Hermione, were members of the Wizengamot. That's why Hermione had joined. She wanted new Ministry laws for better treatment of house-elves. The Ministry wouldn't do it, but this Sewing club had it passed into law in less than a week after she joined.

Still, Ron had enough of the lot of them as he exaggeratedly looked at his wrist-watch and then up at Headmistress McGonagall.

"Headmistress, it's getting bloody late and I have a good deal of bloody reports to finish so if you'll excuse me."

That was all a lie as he had already done the reports before he left the Ministry. That and he hoped that Hermione was stewing every time he used the word "bloody".

However, the stern disapproving look he was getting from Headmistress McGonagall made him wonder if he would be excused. In fact, he was a bit worried that he would have to serve detention again.

Fortunately for him she sighed and then answered, "We will talk about this further, Mr. Weasley. For now, you're dismissed."

Ron breathed in relief as he turned around to see his Mum, a sympathetic smile on her face. She undoubtedly knew how uncomfortable he felt with Hermione in the room.

"Mum, Ladies," Ron respectfully acknowledged as he swiftly made his way out of the Headmistress' office.

He purposefully kept his sight away from Hermione as he mustered all the dignity that he still had left in him to walk straight out the door.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I'm sorry this is late. I won't say it was Writer's Block; more like my heart was into it.

_Yeah, I know Ron was behaving like a child during the meeting. You think I wrote that in for a reason? Review!_


	7. Chapter 7: My Other Husband

**Chapter 7: My Other Husband**

Ron was descending the spiral staircase at a run. As expected, it didn't take long before he heard an all too familiar voice echoing from the top of the staircase.

"Ronald! **Ronald!**"

"Bloody Hell," Ron grumbled as he quickened his steps to avoid talking with her.

He leapt off the bottom of the stairs and made a quick right down the hallway towards freedom. He was confident that his long legs would speed him to safety as he rounded another corner before heading to the Grand staircase. If he timed the moving staircases just right, he would get to freedom without ever having to set eyes upon Hermione.

Unfortunately, he ran straight into an elderly witch holding tightly onto a moving picture of her son.

"I beg your pardon," apologized Ron as he helped the older woman regain her balance to prevent her from falling over.

He noticed that she wasn't alone, but instead was with a small group of women who all appeared to be Muggle-born witches. From the look of them, they seemed to be grieving about lost family members. He also happened to notice that a few of them were looking at his Ministry Auror robes a bit oddly, as if they feared and despised him. This was nothing new for Ron; he often got that look from ex-Death Eaters and criminals, but never from a group of grieving mothers.

"Ronald!" yelled Hermione, and from the sound of her voice he could tell she was gaining on him.

He was about to sprint away until he heard a forgotten voice from one of the women. "Ronald Weasley? Yes, it's you. Relax girls, he's my other husband."

Stunned by what he heard, he immediately gazed over at a small smiling woman with dark hair and streaks of gray smoothed back into a bun.

"Mrs. Cattermole?" asked Ron, a bit timidly.

Her smile grew into a beaming acknowledgement that he had indeed recognized her. To his surprise, she walked straight over to him and stretched to kiss him on the cheek before turning to address the other women present.

"Dolly, Sara, Dorothy, Ellie… this is my other husband, Auror Ronald Weasley," Mary Cattermole proudly announced, as if it was real. She even boldly straightened his Auror robes on his shoulders like they were indeed an old married couple.

He must have blushed a little as Mrs. Cattermole explained further to the quizzical mothers.

"It was Ronald, polyjuiced as my Reginald that personally led me to one of the fireplace exit in the Ministry when Harry Potter was freeing us from that awful Umbridge woman and her Dementors. He's also the one in charge of recapturing that retched monster Umbridge."

"OH," remarked the mothers, in understanding with a new found look of trust and respect for him.

It was then that a flustered and heavy-breathing Hermione caught up with him only to be genuinely surprised by whom he was talking with. He could also tell from the Mrs. Cattermole's immediate disapproving scowl that she had also recognized who Hermione was.

"Isn't he a bit… young to be the one in charge?" inquired a silver haired mother, holding a pink Ministry pamphlet.

Mrs. Cattermole swiftly came to his defense. "Ellie, I've kept close tabs on Ronald's career since the war. I'll have you know that Ronald has been on several successful Auror missions. The capture of a Nundu in Africa, Dementors at Wimbledon, numerous -"

He was impressed. He didn't think anyone outside of Hermione, Harry, and his immediate family knew anything of his missions.

"—Snatchers and Death Eaters arrested throughout Britain and on the continent. Not to mention that huge covenant of vampires that tried to establish themselves outside of Surrey. Edward Gullen or something… was one of them he arrested."

Mrs. Cattermole looked back at him to ask a follow-up question, "They said … did you really rip out his fangs?"

Ron sheepishly responded, "Not intentionally, but the dirty hair git wouldn't come in err… peacefully."

Mrs. Cattermole proudly smiled in response then turned around to address the mothers again.

"He was also right there to the bitter end, fighting He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named alongside Harry Potter himself."

Now he was getting a bit scarred at how much she knew about him.

_Uncanny… she's like my own fan club… my own stalker_. Ron thought, as Mary proudly slipped her arm over his.

"My word, with Harry Potter you say?"

"Still looks a bit young if you ask me."

"Shhh, Ellie, at least we can trust him far better than one of those pure-bloods bigots working at the Ministry."

He happened to notice that Mrs. Cattermole was shifting her head toward a silent and respectful Hermione who was standing nearby listening. Mrs. Cattermole was giving a rather good scowl of disapproval to Hermione as she stated, "He certainly can be trusted for he's a far braver man than say, some rich snobby healer. He's easily worth ten of them."

From the wide-eyed but still silent reaction that Hermione responded with, Mrs. Cattermole's message had hit the mark.

He on the other hand was probably a good shade of red in embarrassment from Mrs. Cattermole's praise.

"Thank you, Mrs… Mary," responded Ron who abruptly changed his recognition to a friendly first name in gratitude of her despairing remark toward Hermione.

Before he could think of leaving the elderly lady holding an old Ministry pamphlet called Ellie spoke up to air her grievances.

"Just look at what she made! This is what she had the Ministry send us!" Ellie declared as she held up the pink colored pamphlet above her head for Ron and everyone else to see.

It took a second before he could recognize it. Some of the golden letters on the title had faded over the years but you could still make out what it said.

"_**Mudbloods and the Dangers they pose to a peaceful Pure-Blood Society**_."

"Dolores Umbridge wrote this wicked, diseased – evil. She even picked out the color to make it look right pretty and respectable."

Actually to him the color pink made it that more of a joke, but he wisely said nothing while Ellie was starting to cry.

"They sent me this when… when they murdered my granddaughter during one of her Muggle Born Commission raids. She was a half-blood; not that they bothered to find out. She was only twelve… TWELVE!"

One of the other mothers grabbed Ellie and hugged her as she was trembling in sobbing grief.

"I'm a Mudblood too," proudly declared the witch that Ron had almost knocked over while running away from Hermione.

Ron looked over to see Hermione rubbing her arm with her other hand, no doubt remembering the _Mudblood_ scar that Bellatrix Lestrange burned on her. To this day, he knew she wore it as a badge of honor.

"They went after my son when he tried to go back to Hogwarts. He was a second year or should've been. I wasn't there to stop them. I had already been sentenced to Azkaban by Umbridge. She said I stole my wand. She didn't even care to hear my innocence… had me sent off without even allowing me to say goodbye to my son."

She showed him a magical picture of a thin brown hair thirteen-year-old boy wearing Hufflepuff robes. It was obviously the last picture ever taken of him.

The mother started crying and by the time he took his eyes off the magical picture and handed it back to her, she was visibly devastated with the loss of her son. He didn't really know what to do; it wasn't one of those things they teach you at Auror training.

"I couldn't even say goodbye … to him."

Cautiously he reached out and timidly hugged her for strength. At first she felt startled by his touch and she made him hesitate a little, but her strength gave out and she started leaning in to him for support.

"I'm going to find her," whispered Ron.

He looked up and swore to all of them, "By Merlin's help, I'm going to find her and I'm going to pitch her in Azkaban where she belongs."

There wasn't any cheering or clapping of his proclamation, all of them were still grieving too much for celebration. The best response Ron could get was a silent nod from Ellie and Mary of gratitude and a strong hug of support from the mother he was still holding. Hermione seemed to be the only one left that could voice a reaction.

"Ladies, the Headmistress will see you now."

The mothers reluctantly nodded in understanding and after a few silent moments they managed to regain their composure. As they started to once again make their way up to the Headmistress office they each walked pass him and nodded to him in gratitude, all except Mary. She stopped in front of him, stretched up on her toes and kissed him squarely on the lips.

"And he's a better kisser too," commented Mary mischievously to Hermione rolling her eyes in frustration.

Without question he knew his face was blood-shot red in equal parts embarrassment and pride. Respectfully, Hermione said nothing as a smiling Mary Cattermole, his other wife and official fan club President, strutted past her.

_Merlin, well… this was going to happen sooner or later, might as well do it now._ Ron thought as he waited instead of running away like he originally planned.

"Ron you handled that very well," Hermione uncharacteristically complimented him.

"Always the tone of surprise, but - thank you, all the same," Ron responded cautiously.

"You showed just now, far more maturity than you handled the meeting upstairs!" Hermione verbally struck out at him like an angry Acromantula. "You need to grow up-"

"You know what Hermione, I don't care what you have to say - it's over. You made your choice."

"Leave him out of it." Hermione threatened with her finger pointing out at him. "Derrick has done nothing to you. He's a good man-"

Ron immediately interrupted her, "you mean a better man".

Hermione begrudgingly admitted, "I never said he was a better man, Ron. Those are your words not mine. He's an excellent Healer, he gives to charities-"

"Hermione, I DON'T CARE!" Ron restated loudly in the futile hope that she stop lecturing him about her new boyfriend.

"You never did care. **I GAVE YOU CHANCE AFTER CHANCE AFTER CHANCE**! All you gave me were excuses, half-truths and LIES! I put myself out there and dealt with things that NO ONE should have to deal with on a regular basis." Hermione retorted in repressed fury.

"You really are an awful person." Ron snapped back in resentment. "**I LOVE YOU!** Do you get that Hermione, I… love… you. You took my love and you threw it back in my face and started dating this Derrick tosser."

"I can date whomever I want, Ronald Weasley."

"Go ahead, it won't last. He has to get to know the real you - sooner or later."

"You're just jealous. That's why you attacked Professor Slughorn tonight. He's still puking-"

"Oh spare me, that pompous wind bag has had that one coming for years."

"Ron, you don't attack Professors." Hermione stiffly declared.

Ron changed tactics by redirected back on topic. "What do you mean you gave me chances?"

"Ron, I've been waiting for you for fourteen years! You can talk a good game but when push comes to shove-"

"Are you mental? Fourteen years?"

"Yes, fourteen years," reaffirmed a pouting Hermione with her arms stubbornly across her chest.

"Hermione, you can't start counting time the first time you see me on the train with dirt on my nose!"

Hermione eyes squinted even harder in anger as she quickly changed the subject to avoid arguing on how long they've actually been seeing one another.

"Ronald, I refuse to wait on you forever!"

"What… wait for what?" Ron queried back in confusion.

Hermione's lips quivered a bit before she shouted out in frustration, "**FOR YOU TO MARRY ME!**"

It hit him like a fast Bludger straight in the gut. His mind began racing, his breathing became rapid, and his mouth was stumbling to respond.

After a few seconds, it was Hermione that spoke first. "I've waited too long-"

"I was going to marry you," muttered Ron revealing the undeniable truth for her to hear.

He was hoping for a positive reaction to his proposal but all he got was cold hurtful silence.

Ron felt the overwhelming need to remove the silence between them. "I was waiting to make Senior Auror, like Harry, to pay for a proper wedding. I just haven't had the money-"

"It's always something, Ronald. I have a successful career now and I want someone in my life that will be there to share it with me. I never cared about the money. I want someone not off a million miles away. Not staying home every night after they come back from a mission. Not working toward our future."

Ron blindly snapped back with the first thing he could think of, "I'm sorry I'm late with our homework assignment. I didn't realize our future happiness depended on us meeting a certain deadline."

From Hermione's blazing eyes and incensed facial expression he had truly said something he probably shouldn't had. Luckily, a familiar voice interrupted them before Hermione could magical create a flock of stupid birds to attack him again.

"Hermione dear, the Headmistress wants to speak with you."

Ron looked down the hallway to see his Mother stepping out of the shadows to talk with them. Hermione was by now totally frustrated with him; she respectfully nodded at his Mum and left without so much as a word goodbye. He agonizingly watched as she turned the corner before looking back at his deeply concerned Mum. He was a lot taller than her but that didn't stop her from warmly hugging him for support.

"I loved her," avowed Ron into his Mum understanding ear while fighting back his tears.

"I know. It's not going to be… you have to let her go."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I waited a bit before posting due to the movie. I'll talk about that in the next chapter to give everyone a chance to go see it. Please review.


	8. Chapter 8: Gone fishing

**Author Notes:** To me the greatest problem facing Ron and Hermione is the same problem facing so many couples across the world today - money. Ron is constantly conscious of it and Hermione is not. The reason being is that Ron comes from a completely different background than Hermione. When Hermione told Ron that she didn't care about the money and it didn't make any difference to her she was absolutely truthful and in character. She wasn't raised by super rich or extravagant parents but certainly upper middle class parents that provided everything she needed. She never had to worry about second-hand books; second-hand or even third-hand clothes like Ron had to endure growing up. As we all know environment plays an important part in one's behavior. This leads us to Ron, the exact opposite from Hermione, who is constantly thinking about money. He always wants this and he wants that. Now keep in mind he's a very giving person and he truly wants to give Hermione whatever she wants – a fabulous wedding, a nice house, a huge library, a grand kitchen, a new car… _sound familiar_? Unless you won the lottery then you know what Ron is feeling. The challenge for Ron and the rest of us is that a lack of money dictates our psych.

In my story** Hermione is right**… I'll say that again… **Hermione is right** in that Ron did not make any serious effort to move forward with their relationship in this story. The reason being is money. Money has a way of making a rich man brave and a poor man a coward. In Ron's defense and ours, the lack of money makes you fear doing something that you want to do, you need to do and you have to do. You find yourself thinking more about your wallet than about things that truly matter. The trick for Ron and an extension all of us is that we have to learn that even though we are poor; we shouldn't let money run our lives.

**Beta notes:** Ron is human and needs to learn from his mistakes to become a better person. This is something we should all want him to do. If we love Hermione and Ron as much as I do, we would want to them to give them best selves into the relationship. In order for that to happen, they need to work through some of their basic issues.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8: Gone fishing<strong>

"Ronald, I left some supper on the stove for your father and I'm sure there's plenty for you as well," his mum said, knowing how he felt and what would cheer him up.

"Thank you, mum," Ron said, as he pulled out of his mother's hug.

"It's nothing dear. After this meeting, I'll join you and if you want I'll put some clean sheets on your bed upstairs," his mum offered, smiling.

"Ah no, Mum, I just need some dinner. Maybe a chance to talk with Dad about…"

Ron knew that Molly understood his need to talk man to man with his Dad about Hermione, but from the expression on her face he also could tell that she was a bit skeptical that it was going to happen.

"Yes… well, I'm sure he'll… be there. Then afterwards maybe a bit of a trim," his mum offered, as she ran her hand through his unruly red hair.

"Mum!" Ron whined as he stepped back from her reach.

"It wouldn't hurt - you know. You need to look presentable if you're going to be-"

Ron finished his mum's sentence as he shook his head no and rolled his eyes in frustration. "-Working for the Ministry." He swiftly apologized with a smiled to his mum, before descending the stairs to avoid an impromptu discussion on his personal grooming habits.

"Tell your father I won't be long. And not to bring any of those muggle boat … toys… or whatever into the house," Molly shouted, her voice carrying down the stairs towards him.

Ron stopped descending the stairs to inquire, "What muggle boat?"

"Oh you know him another one of his hobbies I'm afraid," she shouted back in skepticism.

"Merlin," exclaimed Ron, wondering about the wild and crazy hobby his father was involved in.

"Merlin, indeed!" His mum stated as she disappeared from sight.

* * *

><p>After eating healthy portions of lamb roast, cooked peas and potatoes, freshly baked rolls, and a nice size cut of the peach cobbler pie with a decent scoop of whipped frosting on top, he fought against the impulse of taking a second helping of everything in order to save some supper for his Mum. He really wanted to talk with his Dad about his current romantic problems with Hermione. Of course, his father was more occupied with his latest hobby than giving relationship advice.<p>

"Ron how would you like to join your old Dad at some fishing this summer?"

"Sure," Ron sounded a little bit hesitant after years of being the designated family test subject whenever it came to testing one of his dad's new hobbies.

He could still remember the explosive cellular phone that his dad built last year. Instead of ringing, it made a quirky vibration followed by a bellow of yellow smoke and then a sudden explosion next to the ear. His father called it a drawback but George called it an ear remover and pointed to his missing one as if it happened to him.

"Dad, you know about Hermione… I just wanted to ask-"

"I don't know much about that son. I ah… just don't drink and fly on your broomstick. That's important. If you need to drink than call the Knight's Bus. Do you need money for that?" His father haphazardly offered with an almost scared look on his face. "If you need some money, just go see your Mum."

"No Dad, I don't need money for the bus. I just wanted to talk to you about girls."

"I see," interrupted Arthur, with a look on his face that said he wanted to run away instead. "I don't know… I'm not very good with these things. Would you like to see my boat?" he offered in order to change the subject. He didn't even give him a chance to respond as be backed away from the family table and started briskly walking toward his workshop.

"Bloody hell," remarked Ron in frustration at his father before he too left the safety of the family dinner table and made the long walk to his father's Chamber-of-all-things-Muggle-that-go-boom.

His father's workshop could only be described as a hoarder's nest of broken things. To be blunt, nothing inside it worked. By that, he meant if it did work then it probably wasn't doing what it was intended for in the first place. Old Muggle lawn mowers that magically made grass grow longer. An old radio was causing everything around it to get hot whenever Latin Salsa music played. An old Muggle electric lamp was shooting electrical sparks whenever it was turned off and blowing every light around it into complete darkness. Electric tools were magically turned into a village of lazy union members that refused to do work even when threatened with a wand. They had even drilled into a piece of wood demands for better health insurance. Then there were the old metal fire extinguishers that would spray a nasty smelling black fuel oil at anything that lit up after various father designated, "drawbacks". This gave the whole shop a nice overpowering scent of burnt wood as the last "drawback" burnt to the ground. In the middle of this madness, his father sat on a work stool, proudly motioning him inside to come see his latest hobby. In the center of the garage was a 24 foot white colored tarp that hid Merlin-knows-what from view.

"I just got it last week."

"What did you do Dad?" queried Ron as he cautiously entered his father's shop.

"Oh you wouldn't believe the great deal I got!" Arthur bragged as he flicked his wand at the tarp. The tarp immediately flew off what to Ron looked like a huge twisted metal coffin. "Managed to get it real cheap at this seizure… sized… auction."

"You mean a Seized Auction, Dad?" Ron timidly corrected his dad as he noticed the so called boat was carrying several Muggle firearm bullet holes and a twisted crunched up hull.

"Yes - that's it, have Harry and you ever been to one?" His dad excitedly asked him.

"No Dad. Dad you do know this won't float… right?"

"Nonsense, son. Just need to patch her up a bit and we can go straight out on to the North Sea this summer."

The mere thought scared him as he knew the North Sea often carried 30 to 40 foot waves. That alone would flip them over, even if it could float.

"Dad, why don't we try the pond first?" Ron asked, in the hope that his father would see the wisdom in it.

"The pond? No… there are no fish in that. The North Sea has tons. Just you wait and see."

"Yeah, can't wait," Ron said with a fake smile.

"Dad, about Hermione. Do you think she's serious about this Derrick bloke?"

"Women, I couldn't begin to tell you. Have you seen my new fishing rods?" Arthur changed the subject again, holding up a long wooden rod with tiny circles on top of it.

"Yeah… nice Dad."

By now he was beginning to realize that he wasn't going to get any advice or greater understanding about women from his dad. He started to wonder why he even thought he would after years of his father's avoidance on the subject. Still, if he wasn't going to get relationship advice at least his dad could help him with the current Ministry gossip. After all you could say a lot of bad things about his dad's hobbies, but if you wanted the inside scoop on what was going on at the Ministry, then his dad was the man. He knew everything even before the Minister knew.

"Dad, at least can you tell me what Percy and the Minister are talking about when they suggested it would solve their other problem."

His dad knowingly smiled as he was happily spared a father-son talk about the bird and the bees.

"Do you remember right after the war, when we took back the Ministry?"

"Yes, sir."

"One of the very first acts that Kingsley did years ago was order the Malfoy's and Lestrange's vaults frozen. Seeing how you three never have told us what you were really doing in there and what you were looking for that night. We figured that whatever it was worth risking your necks for flying a dragon out of Gringotts, then it must be something that the Ministry should keep an eye on."

Ron said nothing as he was still honor bound from talking about it, even to his father.

"Yes, after several Ministry inspections, whatever was in there either you took it or it never was in there to begin with," his dad stated, while still fishing for answers.

He continued to say nothing.

"You lot never will talk about that will you?"

"Can't really say either way. Now Dad what does this have to do with my investigation?"

Arthur proudly smiled a little as he continued on. "The vaults have been frozen for the last four years and Lucius wants them unfrozen."

"He can kiss my arse. He's damn lucky Draco and him are not in Azkaban!" Ron snapped back in contempt of the Malfoys.

His father nodded in agreement before continuing on. "A lot of people including myself feel that way too. Unfortunately, they were both pardoned right after the war, mainly due to Harry's public admission of them not participating with Voldemort."

Ron grunted in disapproval even though he knew what Harry had said was true.

"I've heard from some of my Ministry friends at the Goblin liaison department that Lucius hasn't been doing very well since the war. His business reputation is ruined and his status among even the pure-bloods is in tatters."

"Couldn't care less," snapped Ron.

"Ha. Yes… well, Lucius as you can imagine is rather … hard up to get those family vaults unfrozen. He's been petitioning The Wizengamot for some time now and Kingsley can't keep him at bay forever."

"So he made a deal?"

"Yes, in exchange for any useful information he can provide about Umbridge. Naturally it saves him a great deal of expense and time with the legal courts and it helps the Ministry from getting an even bigger black eye over Umbridge's escape."

"Not sure if he could even be trusted."

"That will be Percy and your job to find out. Percy is going to owl you tomorrow morning to meet him outside Malfoy Manor so act surprised. I wasn't supposed to tell you… it's still hush-hush."

Ron smiled back at his Dad for his help. "I will but I really don't envy going back to Malfoy Manor again."

His father understood and finally, finally offered him some sound fatherly advice. "Be careful son. A lot of people want Umbridge captured but there's someone out there who's gone to a great deal of trouble to set her free."

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><p>Ron was exhausted both emotionally and physically as he flopped onto his bed without so much as taking his clothes off. He just wanted to forget about everything that happened and just sleep. No more Hermione, no more Derrick, no more Umbridge, no more Harry, no more anything… it all could wait till the morning.<p>

Pop!

"**Ron, Ron, where are you!**" A familiar voice shouted inside his small apartment.

"Aggghh," groaned Ron as he pulled the pillows over his head to avoid his little sister.

He could still hear her heavy footsteps as she stormed into his bedroom. "How dare you attack, Harry!"

If it were the middle of the day, he would've yelled at her at the top of his lungs for her betrayal. However right now he just wanted to sleep.

"Go away you backstabbing slag." He moaned through the pillows to her.

"We didn't tell her to go off dating some other guy. She did that on her own."

"**Go AWAY!**" Ron shouted a lot louder as he didn't even want to talk about it.

"I had to rub Harry up and down with essence of murtlap, you stupid git. You could've seriously hurt him."

"Wish I did," mumbled Ron into the pillows.

"You hurt him again it will be the last thing you ever do!" Ginny swore in anger.

"Go away!"

"Grrr!" Ginny growled as she kicked him in his leg before she apparated out of his apartment.

Pop!

"Need to change the bloody wards," groaned Ron, feeling that much more alone and betrayed.

_It's got to be a better day tomorrow… it can't get any worse than today. _Ron said to himself as he finally fell asleep.

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><p><strong>AN:** Forget it. You're not going to get a Ron gets even with Ginny chapter. That's so NOT canon and OOC that even I can't write about it.

Please Review!


	9. Chapter 9: Stalking

**Author's Note:** _Today's rant brought to you by Abbot Downing Company the finest maker of Concord Stagecoaches. Yes sir, Mark Twain stated in his 1861 book Roughing It that the Concord stagecoach was like "a cradle on wheels". (Source: Wikipedia) _

_What the bleep-bleep-bleep does this have to do with Harry Potter you ask? Simple. By the late 1800s' the Abbot Downing Company and the stagecoaches were history. Therefore, when you think of history and Harry Potter you're going to be thinking of these websites: __**Checkmated**__, __**Simply Undeniable**__, and the __**Quidditch Pitch**__. _

_THEY ARE HISTORY! GONE! DEAD MAN WALKING!_

_A DISTANT MEMORY! (Source: Harry Potter)_

_Now I shouldn't speak ill of the dead, as their pathetic viewership is swirling around the toilet. The reason why is the last Harry Potter book and movie are now done causing viewership on these website to decrease… decrease… decrease… flush! :-D _

_Moreover, I gleefully watch as these pathetic tyrants of these particular websites cling desperately to their undeserved and unjustly abused internet fiefdom. They all falsely claim to be a great site to post stories on but in reality they are nothing more than a silly children's treehouse. You can even make the comparison to the Slug Club. Professors Slughorn decides who makes the club and who doesn't. Now if you really want to make the Slug Club you have to kiss his backside. After that introduction level of Peter Pettigrew groveling you can climb the ladder to Professorship or Moderator or Prefect or Captain or Witches Council in the treehouse. Nevermind the fact, that they are a bunch of mindless dolts who couldn't write a readable fanfic to save their life. Or for that matter they have an ounce of understanding on how to run a Website and a Web Server. _

_To make it clear let me tell you how you make a Harry Potter treehouse website like Checkmated, Simply Undeniable, or The Quidditch Pitch. All you need is a web forum program that you can download for free off the internet. You've all seen this very same program on Checkmated, Ginny Potter, Simply Undeniable, the Quidditch Pitch… that's why they all look alike minus the colors. Change the colors of the background, rename the threads…go to a Web Server company that will host it. Poof! You have yourself your own little Harry Potter treehouse. All you have to do after that is go out on the internet and/or show up at Harry Potter conventions to drum up mindless drone followers to visit your treehouse. Soon you'll be recruiting Deatheaters to handle the various mundane tasks of moderating your treehouse as you'll be too busy looking for an unbeatable wand. _

_To make things more ironic, these adult Death Eaters who rule these treehouses are the same kids in high school who were… well to be blunt - sociable rejects. Not true you say… sorry, without giving out a lot of names, I know them. They are. That's the underlying fuel for the entire reason on why they work on these websites. They don't do it for money - as no one gets paid. They volunteer their hour after hours of time and cash donations to keep these treehouses running in order to be in the popular Slug Club. The part that's ironic is they are just as much jerks as the kids in high school who rejected them and Professor Slughorn. You think they grow up and learn to treat everyone fairly and honest. Nope. _

_Therefore I publically and proudly declare that it's left to evolution to finally kill them off and place their treehouse right alongside the stagecoach. Of course it goes without saying that Abbot Downing Company made something of western beauty and legend, while these idiots made something I want to flush down the toilet like a dead smelly fish._

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><p><strong>Beta Notes: <strong>We visit a location that Ron himself has probably not been to since the events of the novel. This is pretty sweet business. Not to mention, some mentions some characters that we might not miss. Where am I going with this? Well, what I am saying is that Buck is writing a wonderful well rounded story that includes all aspects of Potterdom.

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><p><strong>Chapter 9: Stalking<strong>

As Ron sipped on his morning Pumpkin Juice and nibbled away on his Marmite spread toast, he was battling with himself to avoid the Gossip section of the Daily Prophet. Instead he focused on the latest article from Rita Skeeter.

_Either the Ministry of Magic is unable to re-capture her, or in this humble reporter's opinion, they are aiding and abetting the escape of the former Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic Dolores Umbridge._ _The Minister himself has refused to comment on this subject after evidence was revealed that Dolores Umbridge was wearing Ministry issued Magical Auror cuffs. Magical Auror cuffs as you may already know can only be open by Aurors…_

"Stupid Dung beetle," griped Ron aloud on what he really thought about the _humble_ Rita Skeeter.

He quickly turned the pages over to his favorite section of the newspaper, the Sports.

_Last night Michael Gavin scored another win as the Seeker for the Chudley Cannons. This is the Cannons third win in the season after a humbling eleven losses._

"**Why do they always bring that up?** **It was the beginning of the season… it takes time to build team chemistry!**" Ron said thinking out loud exasperated at the antagonist reporting of the Chudley Cannons.

Again, he yanked the pages over and found himself staring at the section of the newspaper that he didn't want to read at all in the first place. The Gossip section or as he accurately thought of it - the Troll's greeting room. Merlin he hated this section. The reason was obvious: Hermione. She was becoming more and more the celebrity. Of course, this was a far cry from her days at Hogwarts. It started off innocently enough, right after the war she was invited to give a speech to a Witches' support group being how she was best friends with Harry and a war hero. Oddly enough, he had in fact encouraged her at the beginning to be more social and outgoing.

"Come on Hermione, all you do is stay at home and read books. It'll do you some good to get out there and meet some new friends," Ron remembered saying to her.

This led to that and it wasn't long before Hermione had a following of devoted Muggleborn supporters. In their eyes, Hermione could do no wrong. Except perhaps with dating someone they viewed as inferior. Ron had heard their whispers of lies and demeaning gossip against him whenever he read the Gossip section or gone out to parties with Hermione. Subconsciously it was one of the reason he stop taking Hermione out. She always denied it was happening by swearing they were always his biggest supporters. Then later on he would catch a gossip column or overhear them talking and he knew that to be an outright lie. The campaign to get Hermione to dump him had indeed played out precisely as her fans had wanted and it took all his strength and undying love for Hermione not to Crucio the whole lot of them.

Peer pressure was a powerful force and he could almost forgive Hermione for breaking up with him and dating pretty-boy Derrick. However, he would never be able to forgive her for protecting her so-called new friends by lying to him repeatedly.

In a weird way reading the Gossip section would fuel his anger toward them and crack his heart about Hermione. He tried to stop himself but it was hopelessly futile. His jealousy and his anger always won out.

_Miss Hermione Granger was spotted last night at the War Orphanage Charity dinner with her celebrated best-friend Harry Potter and his __fiancé__ Ginny Weasley. She was being escorted by heartthrob Derrick Braunstein. She certainly looked no worse the wear after recently moving on from Robert Whisley. The Charity event was able to raise … _

"Bloody hell," protested Ron as he stared at the magical picture of a smiling Hermione holding tightly on the arm of a pompous Derrick beside a nervous smiling Harry and Ginny who seemed like they were almost forced into the picture.

Hermione was wearing the same unimaginative bland dress that she wore at the Sewing club the night before. Their hallway disagreement didn't seem to bother her in the least as she smiled happily at the cameras next to a smarmy looking Derrick. Unlike Hermione, Derrick was wearing a very expensive muggle business suit and looked impeccable in front of cameras. Beside them stood his back-stabbing, twisted evil, ex-best friend Harry and his now disowned and disavowed back-stabbing sister Ginny. Harry with Ginny in tow was trying to move away from Hermione and Derrick but weren't quick enough to avoid being magically pictured together. They were fearfully looking sideways at the cameras no doubt realizing that they were now publically caught in an unspoken endorsement of Hermione's new man and their implicit betrayal of him.

**Pop! Bang!**

Ron angrily balled up the Daily Prophet newspaper and wondered why all the lights had suddenly gone out throughout his flat. He would have to magically fix that later as he was already running late with his meeting with Percy.

* * *

><p>As Ron walked alongside his older brother Percy toward the wrought-iron gates surrounding the Malfoy Manor, his thoughts were no longer about Hermione, Harry and Ginny. Instead his thoughts were about the first time he had the misfortunate to visit the Malfoys' home. Snatchers led by Fenrir Greyback had dragged Harry, Hermione and himself down this very same path. He later got his revenge during the Battle of Hogwarts as both Neville and he defeated Greyback for good. After Greyback's trial it was both Neville and his first Auror assignment to personally escort Greyback to the darkest dingiest cell in Azkaban. He still vividly remembered drop-kicking Greyback into his cell and slamming the cell's door magically shut in his howling mad face.<p>

"Remind me to replace Fenrir's rations with a week's supply of dog food the next time I visit Azkaban." Ron stated to his brother, who looked a bit uptight with the thought of mistreating prisoners.

"I will do no such thing. Ron the Ministry takes an unsavory view of the mistreatment of prisoners… even if it's werewolf Fenrir Greyback." Percy stated as a matter of fact.

Ron rebelliously smirked at his brother as he told him of his last Christmas gift to Fenrir. "We don't mistreat him, why last Christmas we bought him a nice doggy water bowl for him to drink out of."

"Ha." An unseen voiced chuckled.

"Why we even given him a nice flea bath and a dragon bone for him to chew on." Ron stated, as he remembered magically pouring a bucket of soap over Fenrir's head and then blasting him with a high pressure water hose in his prison cell.

Technically, Percy was correct that it was illegal, but environmentally it was the only thing you could do to fight his doggy smelling stench. All the other prisoners and guards throughout Azkaban couldn't stand the smell of him. Still it didn't morally excuse him for knocking Fenrir out across the back of his head with said Dragon bone. That was more a gift for his oldest brother Bill on Christmas than a gift for Fenrir.

"Ron you need to respect the Ministry rules…" Percy recited to him as the Ministry stooge that he was. "It's the only way that you're going to get any advancement in the Ministry."

The usual argument with his brother Percy was now fully underway.

"Advancement? I settle for a decent salary. Remind me again whose stupid idea it was to pay kids straight out of Hogwarts working for the Troll Liaison office more money than a fully trained Auror?"

"Ron, you know very well. No one was applying for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures as everyone was applying for Magical Law Enforcement or Magical Games and Sports. The Minister, and I wholeheartedly agree, that this had to be addressed if we were to recruit the needed personnel…"

"What and Auror's are not needed?" Ron shouted back at his brother at how overworked and underpaid he truly was. "Ron it's not the Ministry's fault that you are on a lower pay scale for not graduating Hogwarts." Percy retorted back at him.

"There was a war and -"

"He never did graduate did he?"

Ron immediately stopped arguing as he shifted his view to the person standing at the front gate. That same smug arrogant look on his face was cemented on him as if he was born with it.

"Draco," answered Ron as he grasped on to his wand underneath his Auror's robe.

"Weasley," Draco sneered, "Where's Potter?"

Percy answered before Ron could think of something to say. "Mr. Weasley is leading this investigation not, Harry Potter. This is to be a private meeting between your father and us."

Ron knew from experience that when Percy said "private" then it was supposed to be a tightly held secret inside the Ministry. This also meant that everyone in the Ministry already knew about it.

Draco didn't believe them about Harry and said as much. "Just so you know. We have wards that automatically take off any concealment. It also will be a bit painful for him as well, that's if… he tried to sneak in."

With that Draco magically unlocked the front gate and stepped aside for them to walk through. He also stayed back a bit as if expecting to see Harry getting trapped by the wards. Ron was pretty sure that no ward was ever going to pull off Harry's cloak being that it was one of the three Deathly Hallows. After all, if it was that easy to find the last brother Death was looking for then there would've been anti-concealment wards up everywhere. After walking half the distance to the Manor and nearly tripping over a stupid albino peacock, he smelled the distinctive odor of essence of murtlap.

Narcissa Malfoy greeted them warmly at the front door and led them down the large entrance hallway past many a family portrait that openly viewed them in silent disgust. He scanned his surrounding and noticed right away that all the carpets, marble fireplaces, to the expensive ornate furniture were spotlessly clean, polished and shiny for all to see. As they entered in to the Drawing room he even noticed that the large chandelier that Dobby had destroyed was now showing no outward signs of damage. In the middle of the drawing room sat a grand dining room table with the finest china and silverware that Ron had ever seen. Ron smiled to himself that this was all clearly for his benefit. The Malfoys' weren't about to show a Weasley how poorly they were doing financially and that told him just how desperate they had become.

"Mr. Weasley, Mr. Weasley. Please be seated," announced Lucius Malfoy making a grand entrance into the drawing room wearing a flowing jeweled encrusted wizard's robe.

What was supposed to be the "private meeting" between Percy, Mr. Lucius Malfoy and himself was in fact a not so private meeting with his wife, Narcissa, his son, Draco, and a slender petite young girl he never met sitting directly next to Draco.

Percy started the meeting as he so often did by observing the proper etiquette of pleasant conversation. "You keep a fine Manor, Mrs. Malfoy."

Percy was arguable the Malfoy's favorite Weasley, if there was such a thing, as Narcissa respectfully nodded back.

The only problem was Ron, whom was never one for not speaking the truth or holding his tongue when proper etiquette required it, spoke up. "You certainly have fixed her up since Voldemort camped here."

Draco looked ready to jump out of his seat to fight with Ron and was only prevented from doing so when Lucius barked a warning, "Draco."

Ron smirked as Draco was forced to sit back down in his chair.

"Mr. Weasley, as you well know we were held prisoners here." Lucius Malfoy commented as a man who wasn't affected by Ron's insult.

Ron blatantly ignored Percy's silently pleading with him to be restrained pressed on. "I know. I'm just amaze at how well you've cleaned the place up. Say Draco; wasn't this the very same table that your old boss murdered our Muggle Studies Professor on?"

Draco face went even whiter and for him that was saying something. Unfortunately, the girl sitting beside Draco quickly reached out to comfort a lethargic Draco. She also flashed Ron a rather nasty disapproving look. That same look was shared by all the other Malfoys sitting across from him.

"Ron, please try to be civil." Percy requested as he no doubt felt the meeting was quickly turning into an ugly confrontation.

"You know, I often wondered what your old boss said to you lot when we made our escape that night?" Ron inquired, completely ignoring Percy request. "Merlin, this place was a mess; it sure wasn't as clean as it is now. Too bad you killed Dobby -"

**Slam!**

Lucius slammed his fist on the table as he no longer feigned indifference at Ron's taunting. "I will not have you _weasels_ insult my family in my own house!"

"Oh it's weasels now? Tell me, Mr. Malfoy, how long can you keep this Manor without us Weasleys' signing off on your vaults being released?" Ron pointedly stated, while discreetly pulling out his wand under the table for whatever reaction that Lucius would have next.

Draco no longer listless, instead he appeared eager for a fight burst out the first response. "We don't need your help!"

"How brave you are little weasel without Potter protecting you," spit out Lucius in anger as he brought up his cane beside him.

Ron calmly stood up with his wand pointed straight at Lucius Malfoy's chest. "He's here - standing right behind you by my guess, but I'm still going to beat you myself."

With that announcement, Harry pulled off his invisibility cloak to reveal himself standing right behind the Malfoys' with his wand out as Ron predicted.

"Harry?"

"Shut up Percy," barked Ron grateful that his best mate had secretly come along.

"**ENOUGH!**" Mrs. Malfoy roared gaining everyone's attention.

"Our families have been fighting for far too long. The war is over and yet our feud still continues. Yesterday, I spoke with your Mother, Molly…"

That surprised even him. She had never even mentioned to him that she had spoken to the Malfoy matriarch. From the looks of Draco and Lucius they were surprised as well.

"… and we've agreed, in spite of our families' history to be civil with one another, including you Mr. Potter."

Percy slowly reached over and tugged at his Auror's robe to sit down. Hesitantly he did sit down even though he was still a bit astonished at the bombshell of a pledge that Mrs. Malfoy had just spoken. Mrs. Malfoy reached out and pointed at Lucius and Draco to sit back into their seats too. Even a stunned Harry eventually walked around and joined him at the table.

Eerily it was silent at the dining room table as both Malfoys' and Weasleys' were facing uncharted territory.

Mrs. Malfoy broke the stunned silence with another revelation. "Mr. Weasley, we would like our vaults returned to us in order for our son, Draco, to marry his beloved fiancée, Astoria Greengrass. Their union will carry on our proud family bloodline."

"Here, here," boasted an old family portrait in approval.

_Astoria… Daphne's younger sister_, Ron thought to himself. _I wonder what happened to Pansy_? _Maybe she finally wised up. _

"Now Mr. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Potter you have questions for my husband about Dolores Umbridge. Please begin."

"Where is she," Harry blurted out cutting to the chase of the matter.

Lucius Malfoy slowly sipped on a glass of water before he eventually answered Harry. "Not in Britain, of that I'm certain."

Ron already annoyed at Mr. Malfoy stalling to drink a glass of water before answering interrogated him further. "He didn't ask you where she wasn't. Where is she now?"

Mr. Malfoy flashed a snarl until his wife calmly squeezed his arm for him to remain civil and answer.

"It's taken a great bit of effort to find that much. Contrary to what you believe, I'm not the one who helped her escape."

"Where … is … she?" Harry slowly spoke to emphasized that this was the only question he wanted answered.

"France… we think. Possibly Holland."

"What," snapped Ron?

Mr. Malfoy felt a bit put out as he to expound on why he thought Umbridge was on the continent.

"During the war, the Dark Lord…" Mr. Malfoy hesitated a bit as if remembering some of the worst moments over again. "…had not so much a servant**, **but an ally - high within the International Confederation. I don't know who for certain as the Dark Lord would not entrust his or her identity to me. He shared that information only with Yaxley."

"He's dead," Ron reminded him and everyone else.

"Yes Mr. Weasley, we all know that he's dead," Lucius said clearly irritated. "The point is that the Dark Lord had an undercover ally within the Confederation that the Ministry worked with too… contain certain aspects…"

"You mean the mass killings of innocent magical and non-magical people." Ron added on what Mr. Malfoy viewed as aspects.

"Are you saying the Ministry knows about this Death Eater on the International Confederation of Wizards?" Percy retorted as if the very thought was slanderous.

"Not a Death Eater. Like I said before he or she was more an ally, a pure-blood who shared our cause."

Ron was about to snap another rude observation on what he thought about their cause, but Harry followed up before he could say anything.

"So you think this ally of Voldemort helped Umbridge escape in order to protect their identity?"

"Umbridge would've certainly known or suspected who this individual was - as Prius and Yaxely worked rather close with her at the Ministry."

Ron was not too sure on what any of that had to do with France or Holland as the suggestive place they could find Umbridge.

"Okay, so how does that put Umbridge in France or Holland?"

Mr. Malfoy seemed a bit pleased with himself as he proudly answered, "The Immortals are from France and Holland. You find them then you find Umbridge."

Ron was confused as ever. It took Percy who immediately grasped at what Mr. Malfoy was suggesting.

"They have been out of power and in hiding since the days of Armand Jean du Plessis."

"You know your history, Mr. Weasley. I thought _you_ might."

By that Lucius meant that he figured that Harry and he wouldn't be the ones to know what he was talking about. Regrettably, he looked over at Harry shrugging his shoulders and knew he didn't know either. It wasn't until Percy looked up and saw the confusion well-written across his face did he expound on who this Armand bloke was.

"He was known as Cardinal Richelieu in the Seventeen century. He was the leader of a pure-blood society, forty to be exact, that ruled France. Honestly, Ron didn't you ever study your history lessons?"

"Percy just tell us who this group is and how can we find them."

Draco spoke out before Percy even had a chance. "You go to France and they'll find you. Gossip has it that the leader of the Immortals is also the same person in the Confederation."

"Bloody Hell!" groaned Ron.

Mr. Malfoy egotistically looked on at his frustration before he sought payment for his services. "Now Mr. Weasley, I've answered your questions. Now you be so kind as to turn over my vault."

Percy nodded in agreement and pulled out the Ministry papers from his briefcase and magically signed with his wand. He then handed the papers over for to him to sign as well.

"Wait," ordered Harry whom seemed to be intently staring at Mrs. Malfoy. "Mrs. Malfoy, you'll have to also tell us where Rabastan Lestrange is. You've been his Secret-Keeper."

Ron didn't have a clue on how Harry knew this, but from the look of panic on Mrs. Malfoy's face. He was spot on.

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><p><strong>AN:** If you have a comment about my rant or my story then please leave a review. Even if you don't – Review!


	10. Chapter 10: Neville Quits

**Beta's note: **Neville is back, guys! Neville is the best. That is absolutely all you need to know is that it is particularly wonderful.

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><p><strong><strong>Chapter 10: Neville Quits<strong>**

That was the thing Ron most hated about his best mate. For some totally unexplainable reason of daffy madness, Harry Potter had this astonishing ability of pulling off some half-witted, poorly conceived heroic act that completely changed his view of him. No one but him could go from a back-stabbing, more-trouble-than-he's-worth traitor to this incredible brave and thoughtful best friend. It didn't make sense. No matter how mad he was of Harry, he could always do this incredible and noble act that almost completely made you want to forget that you wanted to throttle him in the first place.

Still if Harry thinks that he's going home to 'do' his sister then he's howling mad.

Ron slipped out his wand and uttered, "_Petrificus Totalus_," and watched as Harry frozen body slipped off the bar stool to land beside Neville.

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><p><em>Earlier that day<em>

"I… I… don't know what-" Narcissa Malfoy uncharacteristically stuttered to all of them.

"We've been searching for Rabastan Lestrange for well over six years now." Harry interrupted Mrs. Malfoy's unconvincing denial. "There have been no public sightings of him and not so much as a word as to where he's hiding. That could only mean one thing the Fidelius Charm. This means he would need a Secret-Keeper. Rabastan has no friends; he was only close with his brother and by extension of his sister-in-law – you."

Ron knew from experience that no one else living had a better understanding of Death Eaters. It was uncanny on the insight Harry had on each of them dead or alive. Truthfully, he often wondered if Harry's scar was indeed dormant like Harry claimed it was for only Voldemort would know as much.

Lucius frustrated at the turn of events retorted, "This was not our agreement with the Ministry. We had only to answer questions about Umbridge."

It was Percy that refuted that statement. "The agreement was for you to answer any and all reasonable questions from Magical Law Enforcement personnel. Any information on Mr. Lestrange current whereabouts are reasonable questions. Especially considering there is an old outstanding arrest warrant from the Wizengamot for Mr. Lestrange after escaping from Azkaban during the war. Mrs. Malfoy, his Secret-Keeper would be found guilty of harboring and concealing his escape."

Narcissa said nothing but as she lay silent her face was sweating in guilt.

"We should've figured this out a long time ago. Who better for him to trust than you?" Harry continued, "Everyone of course would suspect Lucius of being his Secret-Keeper."

Lucius Malfoy wasn't upset with the accusation, if anything he looked a bit troubled that Narcissa had been picked over him. That and it was obvious from Draco's astonished look at his mother that Narcissa had kept the secret from her own family.

"Plus, his reputation at the end of the war in Death Eater circles wasn't… uh."

The snarl from Lucius told Harry that he had better not finished that line of thought.

"Then there was Draco."

Draco looked from his mother to Harry a bit upset at being a part of the discussion especially in front of his new fiancée, Astoria Greengrass.

"He never had the courage to kill or do anything that Rabastan would view as being worthy of being a Death Eater. In fact with the Ministry hunting down all the remaining Death Eaters, then I certainly wouldn't choose one to be my Secret-Keeper."

"Not if you like staying out of Azkaban," added Ron.

"Which leaves you - Mrs. Malfoy; you're a pure blood, you're a sympathizer but not a Death Eater, and he would know from Bellatrix that you had the courage to take an Unbreakable Vow with Severus to protect Draco."

Mrs. Malfoy said nothing as she held her chin up in defiance.

Ron broke the deadlocked silence, "Looks like we don't have a deal."

He pushed the Ministry papers back over to Percy and stood up from the table. He reached under his robe and pulled out his Auror chains to arrest Narcissa.

The clatter noises of his now excited chains vibrated throughout the Dining room.

"How dare you!" Lucius Malfoy roared as he stood up and pulled out his wand from his cane.

"Narcissa Malfoy, I hereby place you under arrest for the charge of harboring and concealing Rabastan Lestrange."

"Over my dead body," Draco shouted in defense of his mother as he too stood up to fight.

"**Wait!**"

Ron was about to joyously release his Auror chains and had to tug them back as they were eagerly fighting to be released from his grasp in order to perform a much overdue arrest. He looked over to see who shouted "Wait," and was embolden to observe his brother Percy was standing beside him with his wand out for dueling. What he had not expected to see was Harry standing up not with his own Auror chains or his wand out but with both his hands stretched signaling for them to stop.

"Mrs. Malfoy - hear me out."

That appeared to him to be an odd thing for Harry to say as she wasn't the one standing up to fight. In fact, he was talking only to her as the rest of them looked on.

"You protect your family at all cost. I've seen it for myself."

Mrs. Malfoy nodded in agreement as if awakening from a trance.

"This is your family sitting right here at the table. The Malfoys- not Rabastan Lestrange. If you don't give him up to us you'll never have your vaults released and Draco will never get his wedding."

Ron finally caught on to what Harry was saying as were the rest of the people at the table. What followed next was an even bigger surprise. Percy saved the day.

"Mrs. Malfoy, my father told me after Victoire's birth, my niece, that he thought being a parent was the best thing he's ever done. That was until he became a Grandparent."

Mrs. Malfoy turned her head to stare at a silent and nervous spectator, Astoria. And after a comforting touch from Lucius, her husband, she started writing on a parchment.

"My family knew nothing of this." Mrs. Malfoy asserted as she slid the parchment over for them to read.

It was Harry once again saving the Malfoys from Azkaban, the git.

"Mrs. Malfoy, if this information is correct **-** then I don't believe it would look good for us to be arresting a Mother before her son's wedding. Consider this our wedding gift for your family."

Mrs. Malfoy acknowledge Harry's illegal- and stupid- wedding offering with a small smile in appreciation. The whole thing made Ron want to throw up all over their expensive table and expensive shiny silverware and their stupid dishes-

"Ron."

-And their stupid chandelier.

"RON!"

"**WHAT?**" Ron barked in response of Harry gaining his attention.

He pointed at the Ministry paperwork that Percy was sliding across the table for him to sign.

Merlin, he hated his best friend. That was all he could think of as he tapped his wand on the Ministry forms releasing the Malfoy's and Lestrange vaults to Lucius Malfoy and his family. As expected Lucius Malfoy instantly looked embolden and superior to everyone else in the room. He flicked his wand and the Ministry paperwork went magically flying across the table to his greedy little hands.

"Draco, would you please show your friends to the gates."

"Don't bother – we know how to _escape_ from here." Ron griped as he magically returned his disappointed Auror chains back to his robes.

He gave Harry a** "**we're-going-to-regret-this" stare before looking down at the parchment to read:

_**452 Keswick Road**_

_**Blackpool, UK**_

"Percy update the Minister and Ron - let's get Neville." Harry ordered completely ignoring the sane wisdom that he was trying to offer him.

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><p>They finally managed to track down Neville in Diagon Alley outside of the Twilfit &amp; Tattings store. He looked saddened as he stared through the store window.<p>

"Neville, Neville we have something," spoke Harry as they raced over to where he was standing.

"Oh, hey Harry… Ron." Neville responded gloomily.

"Neville we know where Rabastan Lestrange is." Harry excitedly told him.

Immediately alertness sprouted up in him as he questioned Harry. "Really, do we know it's him?"

Ron responded before Harry could. "Yeah it's him. Harry gave Narcissa a pass for being his Secret-Keeper." He decidedly gave Harry a loathing look as he said that.

Harry didn't respond as he grabbed Neville and dragged him to a safe place for them to Apparate from. As they were doing that Ron took notice of what Neville was looking at through the store window. They were very expensive magical engagement rings. Several of the diamond's colors in the engagement rings would magically change from clear to various colors of the rainbow. Not that was what Neville was looking at. If he had any guess the golden looking diamond engagement ring in the center of the store window display was the one Neville was wanting. The color totally matched Hannah's hair.

* * *

><p>It always seemed to irk him that the guy who couldn't win a single game of Wizard's Chess or strategize his way out of a wet paper bag was the one that always came up with the plans.<p>

"I've called for back-up and I'm going to make sure that they completely have the flat surrounded before we enter. Neville, I want you to be in charge out here while Ron and I go in there to arrest him."

"Harry, I want to go in." Neville demanded as Ron knew he would.

"You can't, Neville, it's under a Fidelius Charm. You wouldn't be able to see anything even if we showed you. Only Ron and I were given the Secret from the Secret-Keeper." Harry explained to a dejected Neville who seemed to be waiting his entire Auror career to arrest the last remaining member that tortured his parents.

"Don't worry, Neville, you'll be with us when we take him back to Azkaban." Ron offered as was the usual duty for them to do when they captured a Death Eater.

Neville shook his head in agreement but he wasn't exactly happy with it.

After twenty minutes of organizing numerous Aurors, Hit Wizards, Magical Law Enforcement squads and about half the bloody Ministry did Harry finally signal for Ron that they could begin.

As they stealthily made their way to the front door of an old white plaster flat he whispered over at Harry. "Did you remember to get the brass band in the back alley?"

"Shut up, Ron," whispered Harry not wanting to argue over how inviting so many Ministry personnel was bound to draw attention, especially if Rabastan was looking out a window.

Ron performed the Anti-Disapparition Jinx while Harry was about to perform an unlocking spell on the front door. He stopped him before he did with a whispering warning. "Harry, who in the world locks the door with a Fidelius Charm on it? It's probably got a jinx or even a ward on the door lock if you tried to magically unlock it."

"Who made you smart," sniped Harry as he twisted the front door knob to open.

"Sniff, sniff." Ron smelled a bit too loudly as Harry hit him in the leg to be quiet.

The flat reeked of old tobacco smell as if it hadn't been aired out in years. As Ron slowly entered the flat behind Harry he could tell that someone was definitely living there. That someone was somebody who didn't value the need to clean up behind themself. He looked about the living room to see a dimly lit fireplace, dirty clothes thrown about, full ash trays on the end tables, and dusty worn out furniture. The place was a mess and for him to say that spoke volumes.

"Squeak."

Ron suddenly looked up toward the top of a wooden staircase to see an unshaved Rabastan Lestrange pointing his wand directly at him.

"Ron," shouted Harry as he shoved him behind the couch onto the floor.

The living room lit up in a green flashing light that meant only one thing, the Killing Curse. Anger swelled over him as he shot back a few Stunning spells up the staircase. The living room once again lit up with flashing green lights as Rabastan was determined to fight to the death.

"On the count of three," directed Harry beside him behind the couch. "One, two…"

The room once again lit up in Green lights as Ron returned the favor by shoving Harry back down behind the couch.

"He can count, Harry." Ron snapped at how foolish it was for him to say aloud on when they were going to attack.

"**Aaaggghhh!**" Rabastan screamed from up the staircase like he was sat on by a Dragon.

Experience from numerous arrests had taught Ron that when the perps were unexplainably screaming like that; it was because they had splinched themselves. No doubt Rabastan was trying to Apparate to safety and found out the hard way that Ron had already performed an Anti-Disapparition Jinx on the entire flat. Hopefully, all his body parts were still reasonably close by one another for them to salvage. The last one that had tried to escape had left splinched body parts all over a huge roof. He had the unpleasant duty of finding brains, liver and intestines on one end and bones, hair, eye-balls, and an empty full body skin on the other end of the roof. He still to this day had no idea where the missing blood went.

Harry yelled up the stairs no doubt remembering the last time someone splinched. "Rabastan, are you still alive?"

He was answered with a white flash of light and another howling scream of pain from up the staircase. No doubt he was healing himself in an equaling painful healing spell for splincing. However, the next sound he heard was a new one.

"Crash."

It was the unmistakable sound of window glass breaking.

"Blast," Ron spat out as he leaped on his feet and raced up the staircase after a fleeing Rabastan.

By the time Harry and he got to the broken second floor window and looked outside toward the street below; he saw a furious Neville with his wand pointed at a shocked Rabastan Lestrange wearing Neville's Auror chains on his wrists.

"**NOOOO!**" Rabastan screamed into the night.

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><p>As Ron took his usual seat at the bar in the Leaky Cauldron, he couldn't help but notice the lack of celebration from a victorious Neville. Even a hero's kiss from Hannah Abbott hadn't broken him from his melancholy.<p>

"What's wrong, Neville?"

"Nothing," answered Neville who was always a bit tough to opened up on what was really bothering him.

"Neville, you just caught the bloody git that attacked your parents. The three of us transported his sorry arse to Azkaban. And then you, my dear sir, personally dropped kick him in to his bloody cell next to Fenrir Greyback. Speaking of, we really need to give him another doggy bath. Werewolves can really smell up a place. So I ask you Neville – what's with the long face?"

Neville smirked a little no doubt remembering how he captured Rabastan after he jumped out of the second story window and revealed himself for all to see from the safety of the Fidelius Charm.

"I'm going to quit."

"What, what you mean quit?"

"I got a letter this morning from Professor Sprout. She's planning on retiring at the end of the school term and she wanted to recommend me for her job."

He beamed at his friend's good fortune and slapped him on the back in congratulations. "This is great; you've wanted that job for years. Lucky git."

Neville smirked a bit bigger as he agreed with Ron's assessment.

"I wasn't going to take it-"

"Take what?" Harry inquired as he finally joined them at the bar after doing a personal errant in Diagon Alley.

"The job. I.. I didn't want to take it until-"

Ron jumped in with what Neville was timidly trying to say. "You captured Rabastan. You can check that one off your To-do list."

He lifted his pint of Ogden Firewhisky and tapped Neville's pint in triumph.

Neville finally cracked a smile before finishing, "I couldn't have done it without you, both of you. I mean that. I owe both of you everything."

Harry slipped between Neville and Ron before agreeing with Neville. "You do owe me a lot."

"What," said Ron at how smugly and uncharacteristically Harry was acting.

Harry said nothing as he reached into his robe and pulled out a jewelry box. Ron looked over at the jewelry box and noticed it had "Twilfit & Tattings" magically engraved on it.

"Harry, I couldn't." Neville responded in shock at Harry's generosity.

Harry boldly replied back. "I'm sorry are you waiting for a better day to ask her?"

Neville a bit stunned at all that had transpired in one day looked from a smiling Harry to him nodding in agreement and then back down at the jewelry box. His hand was shaking a bit as he reached out to hold and open the jewelry box. Neville opened it to reveal the very same golden color diamond engagement ring that Ron was sure that Neville had wanted to get.

Neville looked over his shoulder to see Hannah serving drinks to a table of old men. She was still beaming in pride after hearing of Neville arresting Rabastan. She also happened to look over at them and smiled directly at Neville at that very moment. Ron was pretty sure that last smile from Hannah had chased whatever fears Neville still had left.

"Excuse me." Neville softly said as he walked over to Hannah with the jewelry box in his hand.

Neville slowly reached out and softly grabbed Hannah's hand before going down on a knee. It was at this time that the Chosen One had roared a, "**Everyone be quiet**," command to the entire pub. And when the Chosen One says be quiet to a noisy and busy pub, you can hear a quill drop from the dead silence.

"Hannah, you mean so much to me that I'm a fool for not asking you this a long time ago."

Ron smirk a little as Hannah finally realized what Neville was doing.

"Will you marry me, Hannah?" Neville proposed with the jewelry box opened for Hannah to see.

Maybe it was Ron's hearing or maybe it was the fact that Hannah never really answered. Instead, she tackled poor Neville on to the floor and swiftly kissed him like he never had been kissed before.

He quipped her answer, "I think that's a yes."

"Hurray," shouted the entire bar in reaction as they watched Hannah rather shamelessly embrace Neville on the floor.

He whispered over toward Harry, "this is probably the first time someone fell to the floor and they weren't pissed."

Harry nodded in agreement as he couldn't take his eyes off Neville and Hannah lustily going at it on the floor.

Harry finally responded, "I need to go home. Ginny is there… eh waiting for me. I can't wait to see Ginny."

Ron slipped out his wand and uttered, "_Petrificus Totalus_," and watched as Harry frozen body slipped off the bar stool to land beside Neville on the floor.

"That would make him the second person." Ron assessed as he slowly finished his pint.

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><p><strong>AN:** _Review, Review, Review!_


	11. Chapter 11: A New Day

**The return of the Author's Rant: **_(You asked for it.)_ The sexy nurse with the pills has quit and left me fixating on the standards of what makes a passable Harry Potter Fanfiction. Lately I've noticed there have been several writers who fail to observe basic fundamentals of writing. Now I'm not going to mention names. What I will say is that certain standards need to be pointed out for the reading enjoyment of all.

First, - this is Fanfiction by that I mean what everyone sees is the written word. That's our medium. You want video then you have to go over to You Tube. Along those lines if you have shall we say thin dialogue, like something from a Clint Eastwood movie, then you can get away with using _one words_ as dialogue because you have the visual background defining the moment and explaining the story. Clint Eastwood had either San Francisco in Dirty Harry or the western landscape in Hang 'Em High. He didn't need to be chatty. He didn't need to explain his inner thoughts or emotions. You could see his face and know that he was about to blow the punk's head off with a 44 Magnum. Now in this medium that doesn't work and if you think it does than you're lazy and your writing stinks. You have to have dialogue or something else that conveys the story.

Second, - Magic. That would be the thing that separates Harry Potter from every other teenage story. In case someone forgot to tell these horrible and pathetic writers. Harry Potter is a wizard. Magic is real in Fanfiction. Feel free to use it.

Third, - location, location, location. True to this medium and the restaurant business is the fact that location matters. If you're at a well-established location like Hogwarts in the Great Hall then you don't need to put in a lot of sentences about the description of the scenery. However, if you're describing a sex scene between Hermione and Ron in let's say… Sydney, Australia then it would help to know if they are doing in a hotel suite or in a truck stop bathroom.

Fourth –- Research. JK Rowling wrote these things called books to help and guide you. Dare to be a good writer by picking one up and reading it. Who knows maybe someone won't write Ron and Hermione's first kiss being anywhere other than in front of the Room of Requirement. Plus it would finally help them to understand Hermione's true motivation of wanting to kiss Ron. The linchpin being, Ron spoke up about protecting the House Elves. So remember reading the books would help all of us readers from SPEW-ing all over our computer screens.

Fifth –- Learn how to write something longer that a fortune cookie. This one goes without saying. I'm not a fan of authors' who have only the courage to write a one chapter story.

Lastly, stop reviewing crappy writers, me included, with undeserved praise. Personally, I have a simple policy when it comes to reviews. I make it a point to leave flames and praises alone so long as they've read the story in its entirety. (By entirety I mean being up to the last chapter posted.) Be tough on us otherwise we'll never improve.

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><p><strong>Beta's Note: <strong>We are building towards exciting business, people. Also, Ron is obviously acting out. How would you feel if your sister and best friend talked to your girlfriend about her plans to break up with you? I would personally be pissed. Which makes Ron's paralysis of Harry pretty reasonable to me. Also, hilarious.

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><p><strong>Chapter 11: A new day<strong>

"Groan."

Ron ignored the moaning coming from his couch as he started to read the morning paper at his kitchen table.

_**Rabastan Lestrange Captured!**_

"_Numerous Magical Law Enforcement personnel including famed Senior Auror Harry Potter, Auror Neville Longbottom, and Auror Rupert Wheat conducted a secret raid shortly before 9:30pm yesterday based on a confidential sighting of the current whereabouts of wanted Azkaban escapee, Rabastan Lestrange._

_Following previously made inquiries they went to Blackpool, Lancashire County, where they cordoned off an area on Keswick Road for a search that led to the discovery of a man in the middle of the street. The man has been formally identified as wanted Azkaban escapee and suspected Death Eater, Rabastan Lestrange. _

_He was arrested on suspicion of multiple Murders, Torture. Unlawful Escape, Sedition and Resisting Arrest from the Ministry. He remains in Auror custody in Azkaban pending trial. He is expected to stand trial tomorrow afternoon inside the Ministry, Aurors said."_

"Wheat? I told that miserable little git it's W-e-a-s-l-e-y… should've made him spell it back to me," Ron growled at the newspaper headline, as he thought about the mealy mouth chimp reporter named Mark. He remembered his name because the git spelled his first name back to him in reply. "My name is M-a-r-k and I'm from the Daily Prophet where we know how to spell."

"Stupid git."

"Groannn!"

"Oh shut up Harry!" Ron growled at his best mate who was struggling to break free of the _Petrify_ curse.

"Rooonnn," moaned Harry, this time calling him by name.

He continued to ignore Harry as he angrily looked down at the front page to see a moving picture of Harry in the center clearing a path while Neville, and he were on each arm of Lestrange. The problem being whereas you could clearly see a shouting Harry ordering the press to step aside and a determined Neville giving a wounded and betrayed Lestrange a death look. His face was almost completely covered up by another photographer's wizard camera. You could barely make out that someone was on Lestrange's right holding his arm and a small fleeting glimpse of that someone having shaggy red hair. That was all you could see of him.

"It's a bloody conspiracy," Ron griped aloud about never getting credited for anything in the press.

"Fame is an empty promise, Mr. Weasley."

"What?"

Ron looked around the kitchen and then in the living room to see who said that and was surprised to find the portrait of Albus Dumbledore was occupied and actually he was the one talking to him. When he first moved in years ago he hung Professor Dumbledore's portrait in a place of honor in his living room. After getting hung on the wall the Professor stood up, politely bowed, and left the portrait empty but his high chair. The entire time since he thinks he only saw him return once when Harry had stopped over for supper and Wizard's chess.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Ron asked doubtful that after so many years the portrait Dumbledore is actually talking to him in his own flat.

"Yes Mr. Weasley," replied Professor Dumbledore sitting on his high chair in his portrait.

"Is there something you want Professor?" Ron inquired as he couldn't think of what else to say in the form of introductory pleasantries.

"No, no, no… just on my way to the Owl Emporium. Understand from Hagrid that there are some new arrivals from the Himalayans. A beautiful blue Himalayan Phoenix to be precise."

"Sounds… interesting," commented Ron as he thought how barmy the portrait of Professor Dumbledore was to the real Professor.

"Ronnn, I'mm going … to kill youu!"

Ron looked over to his couch to see Harry struggling to get off it.

**Pop!**

Ron turned his head and watched as a new visitor Apparate into his flat. It was a worried Ginny wearing a beige London trench coat and she was frantically searching the room.

"Ron, have you seen… **HARRY!** What are you doing here?" Ginny questioned then shouted to Harry who had managed to fall off his couch.

"Owww. Ronn … did this to me." Harry snitched, as he lay on the wooden living room floor.

A surprised and clearly angry Ginny looked over at him for his explanation as she tried to help a still dazed Harry up off the floor.

Ron straightened his back up and resolutely told his incensed sister and best mate why he did what he did. "Harry was planning to come over to see you last night, right after Neville proposed to Hannah. No telling what he would've done."

Ron watched as understanding then pure murderous anger swept over Ginny's face.

"**HOW COULD YOU?**"

"Oh I thought I was helping you two," Ron lied to them as he pulled out his wand from his Auror robes. "Figured you two could use a - break."

He pointedly finished with what they had said after interfering in his love life with Hermione.

"YOU HAVE NO RIGHT INTERFERING IN MY LOVE LIFE, RONALD WEASLEY!" Ginny roared at him.

"Bloody hell, you're right Ginny. I can see your point of view. It's nobody business to interfere with anyone else's' personal love life. Hmmm, wish someone had bloody thought of that when I was dating Hermione."

With that Ron Apparated out of his flat leaving behind a couple of people whom he hoped got the underlying message.

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><p>One of the unwritten rewards of being an Auror was when you pinch a most wanted perp off the streets, you can take the next day off. The Ministry didn't officially acknowledge it but it's an Auror's tradition that Ron religiously observed. With that in mind he didn't go directly to the Ministry but to 93 Diagon Alley instead.<p>

As he strolled past the busy shops on Diagon Alley he looked up to see a glowing sign that read, "**Feeling blue… then try rainbow taffy. Why feel one color when you can feel all the colors.**"

He smirked with the knowledge that George had listened to him about trying out the new candy.

As he opened the door to Weasleys' Wizards Wheezes; he immediately noticed the shop was half empty. Only a few children and adults were shopping in the Wildfire Whiz-bangs firework section and the WonderWitch product section. Verity, George's cashier, looked rather glum about the lack of business as she could only offer a weak smile of recognition to him. As much as he hated to admit it, the place wasn't as fun and exciting as it once was when Fred was still alive. George just seemed to be going through the motions with the business.

"George?" Ron called, to the back of the shop.

"I'm back here, Wheat."

He rolled his eyes and entered into the back office knowing full well that George had read the _Daily Prophet_ and the misspelling of his name.

"Bloody chimp reporter. I even spelled it out for him," griped Ron, as he noticed a tired looking George behind a stack of bills and paperwork.

Running a joke shop business required more paperwork than even what Percy saw on his desk at the Ministry. Poor George seemed to be a fish out of water when it came to that end of the business. He was the manufacturer and the marketing genius to Fred's organization, planning, and creative thinking.

"Just more proof that you're wasting your time over there. Risk your life and get what for it, I ask you?"

Ron hated to admit it, especially after years of arguing with George that he was meant to be an Auror. He was having a harder time of it convincing George that this was what he was meant to do. The pay was bloody lousy, he was never home and if he had been then maybe… just maybe he wouldn't have lost … Hermione.

"I know that look," interjected George into his thoughts. "Still holding out hope that Hermione will come racing back to you. Ah that's cute little brother."

"Shut up George… we're just taking a break."

Ron said it without really thinking whether it was true or not. He hoped that it was.

"Haha, let me tell you something about women, Ron," George boasted as he tilted back in his office chair. "Woman don't take breaks. Oh they say it's a break, but it is not a break. All it is - it's them breaking you down."

_Merlin, why does everybody have to get involved in my personal life?_ Ron thought as he sat down on a chair facing George's desk.

"Oh they like to play innocent. Like a grindylow just sitting in the weeds… waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike some poor unsuspecting sap-"

_This from a man that is completely wrapped around Angelina's finger_, Ron thought, as George continued on with his relationship advice.

"I'm not a sap."

"That's what they like you to think! But don't think… no… don't you ever think… like a grindylow, Ron, just like grindylow. I'm telling you."

"How's the business," Ron inquired, as George wasn't making any sense.

George exhaled as he looked at all the bills on his desk and then back at Ron. To Ron he looked lost and tired.

"Not good as it should be. We need to market our business better, start expanding, and hire some more employees."

"Then do it, George. What are you waiting for?"

"Hey sawdust for brains does it look like I have the time to do all of that and this pile of rubbish too? I barely have time to see Angelina on the weekends much less figure out which invoice goes to which order."

George looked even glummer.

"I have a free morning and I can spot you a few hours," Ron volunteered. George smiled a real smile and Ron was pleased he could help his older brother.

After a few hours of billing, inventory and numerous annoying discussions on women did Ron finally get to the fun part of discussing new inventions and magical items that they could sell.

"Why can't we sell something that gets rid of Gnomes. Like a skunk bomb that only a Gnome can smell. That could sell really well during the spring and the fall," Ron suggested, remembering his hours spent degnoming his mum's garden.

"I don't think they smell… I saw a few of them stealing Ginny's shoes one time and you know how much her feet stink," George replied, as he scrunched up his nose.

"Oh… okay maybe a fake mushroom… that they stick to and you have to use a bat to knock them off. Or even better a muggle golf club. We could call it … Gnome teeing, or Gnome driving range. What do you think?"

"Sounds interesting… so have you started dating other birds yet." George asked, tilting his remaining ear in Ron's direction.

"No… I just…"

As if eyeing an opportunity George offerred a quick suggestion, "Angelina knows this really fun girl from-"

Ron immediately interrupted, "I'm not dating anyone. So NO!"

"—Lancaster. Oh so you'd rather stay home alone and read about Hermione dating?"

"She can date whomever she wants. And no, I don't read about her!" This time Ron knew he was lying. "I'm not going to date anyone… just yet. I need to concentrate on tracking down and arresting Umbridge. Then I'll start … dating."

That last part, dating, had the same appeal of jumping into an frozen ice pond for swimming lessons.

"Little brother, face the music. You're in a dead-end job with no money and no girlfriend. If you won't leave the ministry, then at least start dating to getting a new girlfriend."

Ron said nothing but he knew what George was saying was true. Painfully true. Bloody heart-stabbing true.

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><p><strong>AN:** Please review.


	12. Chapter 12 – Knowledge is Power

**Beta's note: **The curveball was invented in the 1870s, but that does not make it old news. In fact, it means that it can still have some punch. Get yourselves ready for a good one!

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><p><strong>Chapter 12: Knowledge is Power<strong>

There was one great thing about muggle London that made it more inviting than any magical community. You could easily blend in with the masses and be left totally alone in your thoughts.

"Martha, I told you what happened. Oh, you're the daff one woman! How can you be so stupid to believe that Manchester United seats are easy to come by?" A rather big Muggle shouted to his portable tellyphone standing next to Ron. "Do I look like David Beckham to you? You've been drinkin too much whiskey again Martha!"

"Train will be arriving to Piccadilly Circus in two minutes," announced an anonymous Muggle over the crowd that was gathered waiting for the next train from South Kensington.

"_George is right_," thought Ron considering the advice he got from his brother. "_I going have to accept the fact that I'm at a dead-end job, with no money, and no… Hermione._"

He gulped the cold air and ignored the Muggles pressing in all around him as they jockeyed to be the first to board the train for an open seat.

"_I can't keep living like this. I'm tired of being bloody broke. I'm tired of dodging Killing curses, and watching Harry get all the credit for everything we do._"

"Martha, I don't care what your stupid friends tell you. Who you going to believe them wankers or me? Oh… fine… **they're stupid and only an idiot**-" The big Muggle shouted even louder drawing stares from many in the crowd.

"_I'm tired of reading Hermione dating some rich pansy tosser while I-_"

"—**would listen to those losers!** What… oh, I'm the loser?"

"—_sit home alone. I need to find someone else. Someone that isn't so bossy and arrogant that they can't even see that I really and truly care for them._"

"If that's the way you feel about it Martha then you can get the bloody tickets and take all of your stupid friends with you because-"

"_I'm done_," concluded Ron.

"—I'm done!" The big Muggle shouted to his tellyphone before hanging up.

Ron smiled a bit with the resolve strength that he was going to make a change in his life. He also happened to noticed that the big Muggle standing beside him was partially smiling as well. This seemed to Ron to be an odd response to make for the arrival of a train. A late one at that.

"Ron, Ron, I need to talk to yew… excuse me, ma'am. Excuse me, Ron, we need to talk. Excuse me miss…I must say… Ma'am that's a rather nice comb able body hair yew have. Got more than mi dog, Fang."

Ron looked over his shoulder to see Hagrid squeezing thorough the crowd to reach him. Hagrid stood out as he was clearly five feet taller than all the Muggles waiting for the train. Bringing more attention to himself he had stopped to appraisingly stare at someone in the crowd.

"It's a fur coat," shouted a nasal sounding black and gray haired Muggle woman.

"Oh… well… sorry… then. I guess I should've noticed that yewr real hair on yewr head is falling out." Hagrid retorted, no longer being polite with the Muggle woman. "Ma'am if I was yew, I would wear that on yewr head instead of yewr body."

"Hagrid, over here." Ron announced and waved his hand in the air to grab his attention.

Hagrid left the rather ill woman behind and eventually joined him in the back of the crowd.

"Let's wait," suggested Ron as he heard the train arriving at the station.

It took only a few minutes for the departing Muggle passengers to board the train and for it to pull out of the station leaving Hagrid and himself to have a private conversation.

"So how you been doing Hagrid?" Ron asked as both Hagrid and he set down on an empty bench to talk.

"Oh yew know - the same. Hogwarts been pretty quite since yew three left. Not that I haven't missed yew three. I have, but can't say I missed the trouble yew three brought. Merlin, even the Forbidden Forest is a lot quieter since yew three left."

Ron chuckled a little bit at the memory of all his childhood adventures.

"We brought?" Ron sounded playfully. "We're not the one that birthed a dragon on school grounds."

"HAHA!" Hagrid chuckled and slapped Ron on the back hurling him off the bench. "HAHA!"

"Merlin, Hagrid." Ron grimaced after landing a few feet away from the bench he was just sitting at.

"Oh sorry… Ron."

"So what brings you looking for me?" Ron asked as he rubbed his shoulder before retaking his seat on the bench.

Hagrid scanned the empty train station before leaning over to him. "Official Hogwarts business."

Ron looked uncertain at Hagrid. After all it was Neville that was going to be a Professor not him.

"I'm a little bit too old to be doing detention." Ron quipped, as Hagrid rolled his eyes in response.

"With Minerva McGonagall, I wouldn't test that theory if I was yew." Hagrid advised with a bit of seriousness in his tone.

"You might be right," smirked Ron in agreement at how tough the Headmistress is.

"She wants me to tell yew that yew're to be at her office tonight after supper… and she told me this twice. Yew can't be late no matter how many bloody reports yewr working on."

"Merlin, I'm busy. I can't keep updating the stupid Sewing club every time I brush my teeth."

Hagrid stood up resolutely off the bench. "When the Headmistress says yew to be there then yew be there. Otherwise I'll come and get yew myself."

Hagrid was staring rather ominously at him that he would indeed drag him back to Hogwarts whether he liked it or not.

"Okay, I'll be there." Ron surrendered in defeat.

"It's fer the best, Ron, yew'll see. Now if yew'll excuse me I want to go over to the Leaky Cauldron and give Hannah and Neville my congradulations."

Ron nodded in respect as Hagrid softly patted him on the back and made his leave. It didn't take long before another huge group of Muggles enter the train station to leave him alone once again in his thoughts.

* * *

><p>As Ron climbed the Grand Staircase toward the Headmistress office he couldn't help both notice two third year Gryffindor students in front of him talking about Quidditch.<p>

"Marty, we just need more practice. You'll see." A brown hair boy said to his fellow classmate and friend.

"Tom, I don't know. You heard Headless Nick, he said that it was really tough to make the house team." A blonde hair and freckled face boy said with the sound of defeat in his voice.

Ron, who was unnoticed by the two boys in front of him on the stairs, smirked to himself that he often thought the same thing when he was in third year too.

"Jeepers Marty, we can't… not try. You said you want to be a Beater. I'm going to try out for Keeper. We just need some practice."

"That's all I needed to make Keeper," Ron said aloud to the boys alerting them to his presences and that he was listening in on their conversation.

Both the boys froze and slowly looked back thinking he was a Professor. To their even bigger surprise they saw that he was an Auror via his Auror robes and Ministry badge.

"You… you're an Au…Auror," Tom nervously spoke in fear as they looked at his robes and then up at him.

"Yeap and I also was the Gryffindor Keeper. Follow me," Ron proudly ordered as he guided the boys to the third floor Trophy room.

He took them straight over to the trophy display holding the House cup and tapped on the glass. "Right there, ninety-six and ninety-seven."

"Whoaaa," sounded the impressed boys as they pressed their small faces close to the glass to read the names on the trophy.

"Wait, did you play with Harry Potter? It says he was Captain." A twice as impressed Marty asked, no longer intimidated at him for being an Auror.

Ron instantly felt a little bit robbed of his own past glory. He immediately spoke up to salvage some of his ego and pride.

"I did, but he didn't play every game. My sister, Ginny Weasley… there," Ron said as he tapped on the glass again to point out his sister's name on the cup. "She had to play his position as Seeker for us to win. Well that and me carrying the team as Keeper." Ron bragged leaving out the part that Harry was his best friend and he was a great Seeker.

"Woww." Tom gushed in awe of the trophy and of him.

At that moment if Ron's pride was real, then it would've been taller and bigger than a Mountain troll.

"How long did you practice before you made the team?" Marty begged to know.

Ron's continued with his boasting. "Oh with me, not so much. I was a natural you could say. Now Ginny, my sister, who plays Seeker for the Hollyhead Harpies. She had to practice night and day. Poor girl. Never would've won if I hadn't had to carry the team. They even wrote a song about me. Maybe you heard of it? Weasley is our King."

Both the boys shook their head no to the huge disappointment of Ron's pride.

"Oh… well it goes like this. Weasley is our King, Weasley is our King, He didn't let the Quaffle in, Weasley is our King." Ron hummed to the confusion of the boys.

Both of the boys just shrugged their shoulders and looked even more confused at him.

Ron recovered as best as he could, "It… it sounds better when an entire stadium sings it."

Bong, bong, bong –

"Merlin, I'm going to be late," worried Ron as the school clock sounded throughout Hogwarts. "I have to go boys or the Headmistress will give me detention."

Tom jumped in, "She can do that? To an Auror?"

"Oh yeah," remarked Ron as he raced out of the Trophy room toward the Headmistress' office.

* * *

><p>Ron just stood at attention in front of his former Transfiguration Professor and former Head of House. What was weird was there was no Sewing club, and there was no one else in her office. That and it almost looked like she was doing something that she was in complete disagreement with.<p>

"Albus, are you certain?" McGonagall requested of the portrait of Professor Dumbledore.

"Yes Minerva. I think he's capable than most give him credit for. Plus, he won't abuse or test the limits of the knowledge like those that you have recommended." A respectful Professor Dumbledore pointed out to the uncertainty of the Headmistress.

"I know he's capable Albus, I taught him for Merlin's sake. I just don't think he'll be able to fully understand the powers that he'll be welding. Are you certain?"

Ron said nothing as they continued to talk about him with him only a few feet away listening to every word they said.

"I've learned from past experience that true power must be earned and not given. Ronald will appreciate, respect, and fear it far more than anyone else. In at this exact moment he's not only alone so as not to worry about others finding out but he's also has a great need for assistance. He's going to need this knowledge in order to defeat the Immortals on the continent."

Ron's eyes lit up in wonderment at what they could possibly be planning. He didn't even take it as a slight as the Headmistress exhaled in frustration about Professor Dumbledore's conclusion.

"Very well, Albus, but I do so with reservations."

Professor Dumbledore nodded in respect to the Headmistress and then his portrait magically swung open. Behind his portrait set or more accurately, hung a small black hole. The headmistress reached deep into the magical black hole and pulled out….

"**A school book!**" Ron bellowed in disappointment as he was hoping it was something powerful and mystical as the Elder wand.

McGonagall didn't carry the surprise that he carried, quite the opposite she was very worried. "It's Albus's fifth year Transfiguration school book to be precise Mr. Weasley."

"How is that possibly going to help me? It's not even for the NEWT level."

"What you fail to recognize Mr. Weasley is that knowledge is power. True power. The last person to hold this school book killed herself in a terrific accident."

Ron was a bit taken back by that. He even suggested a better candidate than himself.

"Why not give it to Hermione then. She loads better than I am."

"I agree and have pushed for it on many occasions," responded McGonagall as she gingerly placed the school book on her desk.

"Minerva, you are already aware that the last person was of the same caliber and blood line as Miss Granger. It ended with the poor girl's life. No, with Miss Granger's thirst for knowledge and insatiable need to be perfect at her lessons the results would end up as tragic as the last time. It has to be Ronald he stands the best chance of not killing himself."

"Bloody Hell!" groaned Ron.

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><p><strong>AN**: This is what they refer to as a Climax. **Review!**

**(**_**Misspelling in Hagrid's sentences was on purpose.**_**)**


	13. Chapter 13: London what?

**Author's Rant:** I'm under a no rant blockade … of sorts. Enjoy it while it lasts.

**Beta Rant: **Back in Hogwarts, back in Hogwarts. What a wonderful way to spend a chapter. If I do say so myself, it is done believably and is useful to the plot rather than feeling forced and gratuitous.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13: London what?<strong>

Why is it that his life always slows down to a pain-stakingly slow crawl when something is going bad... really bad? Take this last week for example. Hermione breaks up with him… _no real explanation as to why_. It was just a bloody chest stabbing, ripping his heart out, then senselessly watching her open the front door and pitch it out on to the street for-all-to-see. _That was a painfully slow night_. _Of course, not for Hermione, for her it was a quick must-do-checklist item before her big date._ Then there was finding out about said date that froze time but still managed to burn everything else around him. _Yeah that was fun. My desk still smells like a campground fire. _Then the Sewing Club interrogation_… enjoyed every Flobberworm moving second of that._ Meeting the Malfoys' and watching them joyously celebrate at being rich again. _Can't wait to do that again._ Oh and then there was the time, I was ducking behind a couch to avoid getting killed by a Most Wanted ex-Death Eater. _Merlin, I sure do hope the Prophet tells about that time stopping moment… it give them a chance to finally spell my bloody name right. _To close the long week out, it would bring him to this dead moment in the ever constant moving dimension of time. He's watching the Headmistress of Hogwarts stare at him like he's to surely die in the next few minutes, by her hand no less.

"Bloody Hell!" groaned Ron.

Ron couldn't think of what else to say other than, _Bloody Hell_. Merlin, even if he could, it still wouldn't be appropriate to say in the Headmistress' office. Instead he just stood in front of the Headmistress' desk and waited for her to say what he couldn't. Not that she did, in fact other than a glance of pity she characteristically said nothing. As both waited for the other to say something in the time span of several decades… or maybe it was seconds, he really couldn't tell. This was definitely one of those times.

"Ronald, my boy." Spoke the portrait of Professor Dumbledore breaking the cold dead silence in the room.

"Yes sir," answered Ron to the portrait.

Professor Dumbledore paused a second to give Headmistress McGonagall a chance to speak. After a few seconds when it was obvious that she wasn't going to contribute the portrait spoke up again. "You will find my notes on various pages and from those you will be able to piece together the true origin of magic."

"Er… true origin," questioned Ron who wasn't sure if this wasn't some elaborate practical joke.

"Yes Mr. Weasley. Now let's be clear. You are not to speak with anyone outside of this room concerning this - especially one Hermione Granger."

Ron noticed Headmistress McGonagall a bit uncomfortable on that last demand made to him.

"You must learn how to handle these powers and to always… _always_ respect them. You must never allow the schoolbook to leave your possession. You must not be foolish to speak or brag of these powers to anyone for any reason. Do I make myself clear, Mr. Weasley?"

"Yes Sir, but what if I am to need help… Can I ask her then?"

"You are to never speak to Miss Granger about this… even if you need help. Her intellectual curiosity would immediately be peaked and as you can imagine - unstoppable."

Ron had to admit that when it came to not knowing the answer to a school work problem; she wouldn't stop until she did know.

"Okay, then I go to Professor McGonagall for answers?"

McGonagall cleared her throat and finally spoke, "No, Mr. Weasley. I have never read Albus' schoolbook and therefore would be of little help to you."

"Merlin! Have you gone mad? How could I possibly be more qualified than Professor McGonagall, my former Transfiguration Professor?" Ron demanded to know as he was floored that McGonagall hadn't even read her predecessor's own Transfiguration book.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley." McGonagall warmly confirmed with him as she was no doubt feeling a little bit wounded from the former Headmaster's intentional slight.

"Mr. Weasley, you are under no obligation to accept my schoolbook or the knowledge that it contains. If you feel that you are better served with the primitive and ill-informed ways that you currently perform magic than I leave you to it." The Portrait of Professor Dumbledore politely snapped back at him before magically swinging open to reveal the magical black hole.

Headmistress McGonagall lifted the schoolbook off her desk and politely waited for Ron's answer.

"I'm going to bloody regret this," declared Ron as he held out his hand to collect the schoolbook.

Professor McGonagall reluctantly handed the schoolbook over to him. It was obvious she had serious reservations that the book should've gone to either her or maybe then to Hermione.

"Now – Mr. Weasley, I understand from the Minister that they will temporarily be assigning you to the French Department de la Magie."

"The what?" Ron asked dumbfounded at what Professor McGonagall had just said.

A frustrated McGonagall rolled her eyes before she burst out in a lecture, "The French equivalent of the Ministry of Magic. Please Mr. Weasley, I don't expect for you to speak French but I do insist that you keep up with this conversation."

Ron said nothing in reply as for some reason he could sense that the Headmistress was upset about something than just the schoolbook.

"As I was saying you are to be transferred to France as the Ministry's Auror liaison to their Law Enforcement division. That will be your official cover. Your true purpose however will be to investigate the Immortals. Discover who they are and what they are planning. You can arrest Umbridge if you get the chance but you need to stay focused on discovering what the Immortals are up to. We don't need another pure-bloods group starting a war."

Ron nodded his head in absolute agreement. He didn't know what he was agreeing to exactly. He might work for the Ministry of Magic, but Professor McGonagall had been scaring him for much longer. So she said do something, Ron was going to do.

"Good… now we have only one contact for you to work with in Paris. I looked, trust me I looked… for anyone… anybody… I don't think Gerard MacKay will prove useful-." Professor McGonagall declared in something of a manner like a child refusing to eat her spinach.

"He was here when Hogwarts needed him most." Professor Dumbledore's portrait interjected.

"Silence, Albus!" Headmistress barked in an uncharacteristic tone that she wanted him to say nothing more on the subject.

Professor Dumbledore's portrait politely nodded and said nothing more. However, that respect not to broach the subject applied to the portrait not from him.

"Was this MacKay bloke here during the battle?"

Professor McGonagall made a face like she had indeed eaten a spoonful of spinach.

"He… he showed up – late. I don't recall when exactly." The look of Professor McGonagall straining to stay calm was a bit shocking for Ron to witness.

Ron's Auror skills felt the need to follow up his question with another question. "If he fought for the Order then why would you not view him as useful?"

The pointed look from the Headmistress told him there was more to it. The look also carried a warning not to go any further.

"Back to your investigation, Mr. Weasley. You will of course report weekly back to the Minister and Mr. Potter. They will naturally keep me posted on all your updates. Are we clear?"

"Yes Ma'am, but I'm going to need some time off to study this schoolbook."

"You don't have to report to Paris until Monday morning, Mr. Weasley. That gives you the entire weekend to study… here at Hogwarts." McGonagall ordered with a small knowing smile on her face.

"Here!"

* * *

><p>"<strong>It's like she gave me detention!<strong>" Ron roared in frustration.

Hagrid could only laugh as he poured him a cup of tea in his hut.

"Yew did use profanity in her office. Not something I recommend." Hagrid playfully reminded him. "So where in Hogwarts will yew be spending the weekend?"

Hagrid asked him but in a way that let him know that he would see to it that he stay on the school grounds to serve out his detention.

"I guess either on my old bunk in Gryffindor tower or a guest room in the staff area."

"It will be nice to have yew around fer a few days. Just promise me yew'll stay out of the Forest."

Ron shivered at the idea of going out into the Forest and meeting up with one of Aragog's descendants.

"That really would be detention."

* * *

><p>"The Library. The place where all bookworms should go to die," grumbled Ron as he took a quiet seat in the corner.<p>

Like old times, he pointedly ignored Madam Pince annoyed look at him for talking. After all what could she do to him now… arrest him? To that end he made a dramatic stretch to showcase his Auror robes and gleefully watched as all the nervous students moved to the opposite side of the library away from him.

He cautiously pulled out Professor Dumbledore's fifth year Transfiguration book from his robes and timidly opened it to read. After he was sure there were no cauldron explosions or deadly hexes originating from the book did he actually open his eyes to look at it. Unlike Harry's and certainly his own fifth year Transfiguration schoolbook, Dumbledore's was … well … organized and respectably maintained. Pages were neatly pressed against one another and not sticking. The book bind showed no tear or fatigue and the front cover looked as new as the day it was bought. Clearly Professor Dumbledore was a Hermione-grade advocate of schoolbooks.

He slowly opened the book and quickly noticed the numerous notes, comments, highlights, strikeouts and underlines throughout the chapters. Luckily the notes and comments were quill-written rather legibly off on the side of the pages. Which was loads better than his writing; His scribble would've taken a powerful translator spell to decipher.

"Where to begin," Ron asked himself in frustration. "I guess… chapter one."

"Shh," hissed Madam Pince from across the Library. "Five points from Gryffindor."

By midnight, Ron felt like his head was going to explode. The Library had long since been closed to only him and even the ghosts of Hogwarts were keeping their distance. He was now having a hard time focusing on Dumbledore's schoolbook. The words on the pages were starting to roll around in complete circles in an optical illusion. That or his eyes were playing tricks on him. Either way it didn't matter as he was at a mind-stopping road block. What he knew of Magic, the principals, the laws, everything… Dumbledore had strikeout or commented that it was only "partially correct". Either the man was a totally loon or he knew more than any other wizard alive or dead. Ron started to remember the Professor as being a little bit of both.

The one thing he didn't get… okay there were several… was Dumbledore kept mentioning a London Dispersion. Whatever that was he had no idea. He had been living in London for almost four years now and he never once heard the Muggles or even Magical people talking about a dispersion. He would have to pull out a map to figure out where it was. Usually, that task of knowing and finding where the maps were in the library belonged to a certain ex-girlfriend of his.

_I wonder what she's doing?_ Ron thought to himself as he imaged that she was snuggled up inside a warm quilt reading a book. _Merlin, I miss her._

A wave of regret and longing swept over him as he closed the schoolbook and slowly made his way out of the Library. He exhaled in frustration hoping that tomorrow would make sense with the schoolbook, his investigation, and more importantly - his life.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I got to break this chapter up as it's a bit difficult to fully explain Dumbledore's powers and keep you from getting totally bored and restless.


	14. Chapter 14: Elevator to Nowhere

**Author's Note**: Okay… I admit it… it's a slow story. Wait… didn't I already say it would be? Let's see… the summary reads, "_this is a very slow Ron/Hermione ship_". Wow, imagine that?

Listen up: **THIS IS NOT DRAGONHEART!** The writing style is totally different, the plot is different, and the point of view is certainly different. DH was an adrenaline story with multiple POV that contained action, romance, and more action. Think more of this story as a Tom Clancy novel, like _A Hunt for Red October_, or a spy novel. Yes, I could've easily written the last six chapters with one line that said, "Ron's investigation led him to Paris." It's just … that would suck! I hate stories that inexplicably land you into something that you have no idea on why you got there. Everything, okay maybe not the train station scene, leads you into the next scene or something later in the story. For example: (**Spoiler Alerts.**) The kids that Ron took to the Trophy room will play a huge role in helping him figure out Dumbledore's book. The Sewing club will be an active player with Ron's investigation. Harry's unbeatable wand, Auror cuffs getting taken off Umbridge, Arthur's boat, Ron wanting to "move on"… all of these and more are clues planted throughout the story.

Still the criticism about my writing is true – yes my heart hasn't been in it on a few chapters and it shows. Personal reasons aside some chapters were painful to write. I didn't like writing them. I said that before like the Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes chapter. I've always used humor to describe that store and this time I couldn't. Canon wouldn't let me. Keep in mind, a good author has to write scenes that he doesn't want to write. You can't or shouldn't write everything that is "fun" chapters like: Hermione as perfect in every way while Ron wasn't. Then they meet and Ron was foolish and popular Hermione kind of liked him. They go out and live happily ever after as a married couple. That is utter rubbish and was most likely written by a 12 year old girl… with braces… who listens to Justin Bieber… and who has never been out on a real date. (_For the 12 year olds who are reading this and write like that -__Santa Claus is not real__._)

So relax… breathe… the story's tempo will pick up when Ron gets to Paris. That was the plan /outline from the beginning. Like Tom Clancy the chapters build up to a tempest. Oh and for you romance readers - I'm going to write my very first smut chapter and NO it will not be with Hermione. If it does work out I'll write a smut chapter at the end of the story with Hermione. (_The things I do to satisfy my readers… Merlin. What can I say, I love reviews. Good and Bad ones. I might even tolerate a few of you telling me that Santa Claus is indeed real.)_

Wish me luck and I hope you stay with me till the end. If not the "X" is in the top right corner of your screen.

* * *

><p><strong>Beta Note: <strong>Neville is back and we have quite a bit of plot development, whether you think so or not. All in all, a pretty darn delicious chapter to dig into. I suggest you read and review!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14: Elevator to Nowhere<strong>

After two days of reading and re-reading Professor Dumbledore's fifth year Transfiguration schoolbook it was obvious to Ron that he still didn't have a clue on what to make of it. Take the pages dealing with transfiguring solid physical objects into other physical objects. The classroom practice example was to use your own old oak school desk and transfigure it into a golden goblet. The schoolbook writes that to transfigure the school desk you have to use magic to shrink it and then reshape it into the contour of a goblet. Then you simply change the wood into gold. You do all of that by using a good bit of magic and concentration.

However, Dumbledore strikes out the step-by-steps and simply writes let the desk become the goblet.

"Mad, absolutely mad," grumbled Ron at how little progress he was making.

Another practice example was taking a bottle of water and turning it into a glass of Pumpkin juice. Ron remembered this one in particular as it was one of the few Transfiguration classes that he enjoyed. He learned it during a rather hot spring afternoon and he drank not only his but Harry's and Hermione's glass as well. Ron smiled to himself as he remembered better times.

* * *

><p>"Ron, I have to show the Professor that glass." Hermione spouted in anger at him as he ruefully put her empty glass of Pumpkin juice back down on her desk.<p>

Ron shrugged his shoulders before wiping his face off with his sleeve.

"You could've saved me some." Harry griped as he wiped the sweat off his glasses.

"Great Ron, Pansy Parkinson is showing her Pumpkin juice to Professor McGonagall… like she finished first." Hermione huffed indignantly.

Ron rolled his eyes at Hermione's compulsive competitive nature. "You can make another Hermione. Stop trying to always be first in the class – it's annoying."

To his surprise Hermione looked even more livid than just a few seconds ago at his helpful suggestion.

"Enough," Harry snapped as he placed his arm up between them. "It's too hot to be fighting."

Ron shook his head in silent agreement as now Professor McGonagall was glaring at the three of them for talking during her class. It became rather obvious that each of them would have to perform the practice example before Professor McGonagall would re-focus her attention back to the rest of the class.

Ron was quick to concentrate on how a Pumpkin juice should taste as he found Hermione's pumpkin juice a bit flat.

_Sweet, juicy, and a hint of pumpkin taste and smell_, Ron thought of what he craved to have at that exact moment.

He circled his wand and swished at his glass of water to see the clear water swirl into a fresh bright orange liquid.

"Whoa," commented Ron as usually it took him two or three attempts to get the technique down.

He even noticed that Hermione's eyebrow had lifted in surprise. He comparatively looked over at Harry and saw his glass was a bit beige for Pumpkin juice. Hermione's glass on the other hand was the same dull looking orange that she had before.

Professor McGonagall now satisfied that they had some basic understanding took it to the next step. "Very good class, I will be checking on each of your Pumpkin juice for the best tasting one and will award the winner with five points for your house."

Instantly, Ron knew what he had to do. Someone had to drink the glasses to make sure which was the best Pumpkin juice to give to Professor McGonagall.

With one quick swipe he reached for Harry's glass and swallowed it in one gulp.

"Yuck… it tastes like dirt and cider." Ron chocked as he wanted to spit it back out.

"Ron," barked Hermione taking Harry's glass out of his hand and giving it back to Harry.

Straightaway, Ron reached out for Hermione's glass if for no other reason than to wash out the taste of Harry's juice. He quickly swallowed her glass and he immediately recognized it had the same exact taste as it did before. Her Pumpkin juice was still flat like it had been sitting out for far too long.

"Ron-"

Hermione was now snatching her glass from his hands and looked ready to kill him for the theft. Luckily, Professor McGonagall saved his life or at least his ear from a severe tongue lashing.

"Now what do you three have?"

The only glass left was Ron's, as all three looked worriedly at one another and then back over at Professor McGonagall as she appraisingly looked at Ron's glass.

"Nice color… pleasant smell… that's very important. A lot of wizards and witches forget about the smell." Professor McGonagall commented, before lifting up the glass and taking a small swallow.

"Hmm… delicious. Well done, Miss Granger. We have a winner. Five points for Gryffindor."

Immediately Ron felt indignant at Professor McGonagall overlooking him as the source of the Pumpkin juice. He was even about to correct her on it.

"Professor… it was Ron. He performed the spell." Hermione flatly saying the truth but in a weird acknowledgement that suggested even she was surprise by it.

"Mr. Weasley did you… I mean… you created this?" Professor McGonagall asked with an astonished look on her face.

Before he could even answer, Harry congratulated him for winning the house points. "Way to go… good job, Ron."

"Y..Yes ma'am, I created the juice." Ron declared before drinking the winning glass and recreated another for the Professor to see that it was indeed him.

"Very good job, Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall responded in a manner that made Ron feel as if she had a new found respect for his abilities.

* * *

><p>As his mind returned to the present, he noticed that Professor Dumbledore had written a comment beside this particular practice example, "<em>Correct. When dealing with taste or smell it's better to use the magical way<em>."

"That implies that you have a choice for another way. What's the other way?" Ron stated aloud totally baffled at what the other way was.

"You always have a choice, Mr. Weasley."

"Who said that?" Ron queried from his seat at the table in the back of the library.

"I did, Mr. Weasley. Over here."

Ron looked over at an old Hogwarts magical picture to find Professor Dumbledore staring at him intently from a picture that used to be of an old librarian. He had to remind himself that the characters in Portraits were able to move freely from one portrait to the next inside Hogwarts.

After seeing that he was alone he couldn't hold back his frustrations any longer. "What in Merlin's name is this?" Ron held up Professor Dumbledore's schoolbook for the Portrait Professor Dumbledore to see. "It makes no bloody sense. You have a few practice examples techniques crossed out with rubbish like… use the correct way."

Before Professor Dumbledore even had a chance to respond Ron blurted out, "What's the bloody correct way? You didn't even write what the correct way is."

"Calm yourself, Mr. Weasley." Professor Dumbledore said in a soothing voice. "Imagine yourself as a leaf floating on a river."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm trying to explain. Now, imagine yourself as a leaf floating on a river. Imagine the course and speed that you are naturally taking. "

Ron reluctantly closed his eyes and visions himself as a small red maple leaf floating gingerly down a brook not too far from the Burrow.

"This is the natural flow of current. Now imagine what I would do with the river if I used magic. I could make the river flow backwards, forward, sideways and take that leaf anywhere I want too."

Ron nodded in agreement.

"If I released my magic that I hold on the river, what becomes of the leaf?"

"Nothing… it just goes back to the way it was before." Ron answered not knowing where Professor Dumbledore was going with this analogy.

"Precisely… nothing. We have to rely on magic to make the river do what we want it to do."

"So what do you want the bloody river to do then?"

"Ask yourself what does the river want to do? Maybe the river wants to flow backwards, sideways, or up in the air – nature has a choice."

"What choice? Nature, I mean the river is forced by gravity to run downstream? That's why you have current and that's where the leaf will end up."

"My dear boy, only if you let gravity decide. Nature has a choice."

Ron opened his eyes more confused than ever. "This still doesn't make any sense, why does nature have a choice? Why would the river want to flow backwards?"

Professor Dumbledore's eyes started twinkling as he responded, "why indeed? Discover the truth Mr. Weasley and you will unlock everything."

With that godlike abstract message the Portrait Professor Dumbledore stood up and calmly left the portrait without another word on the subject.

"Mad, bloody mad," Ron confirmed his secretly held suspicions.

* * *

><p>After finally being release from his weekend long "detention" at Hogwarts, Ron reported to the Ministry in London for any updates since he was gone and to officially receive the news of his new appointment as the Liaison Auror to the French Ministry of Magic. That in of itself told you more about the current power structure of the Post-War Great Britain than anything he would've imagined. Or as Hagrid told him before he left, "Minerva McGonagall is the Headmistress now and we all have to accept it and support her – yew included."<p>

As Ron slowly made his way to a crowded lift he happened to notice a business-like Hermione was also on the lift as well. She was looking the same since he last seen her over a week ago. He also noticed that she flinched a little in recognition of him as he stepped inside and took a space on the opposite corner of the lift. Neither of them said anything to the other and to the rest of the other passengers it was a usual Monday morning at the Ministry. Ron looked straight ahead and he had no doubt that Hermione was doing the same as the complicated part of working together and being separated was going to have to be the norm.

"Level Seven - Department of Magical Games and Sports, and the Ludricrous Patents Office. Please watch your step." The prerecorded magical voice announced as the lift's doors opened.

Ron kept his view straight and forward even though the urge to glance over at Hermione was getting to be uncontrollable. He did notice a few of his fellow passengers getting off and was feeling a bit more comfortable that the lift wasn't so crowded.

"Level Six – Department of Magical Transportation. Please watch your step."

As before Ron stayed steel eyes on the front of the lift and didn't glace over to where Hermione was standing. A good many of his fellow passengers on the lift exited leaving only himself and to his horror… Hermione. What was once a crowded lift was now a huge wide opened empty lift with only Hermione and himself for company.

He audibly gulped a breath of air and managed to take his eyes off the front of the lift to steal a glance at Hermione. It wasn't even a quick glance as he noticed that Hermione was trying to the do same with him and both of them jerked their heads straight forward.

_Stay calm and be cool Weasley._ Ron's mind ordered and he tried his hardest to listen.

"Level Five – Department of International Magical Cooperation. Please watch your step."

The lift doors opened and Hermione immediately bolted off without so much as saying a word to him. She quickly stopped in front of the lift a few meters away and turned to walk left then stopped and swung around to walk right as it was clear she had no idea on which direction she wanted to take. The only thing clear at that moment was the fact that she had gotten off the lift a floor too early. Hermione worked on Level Four.

Ron silently watched as Hermione shoulders stiffened in self-awareness to the fact that she was indeed on the wrong floor. She stiffly turned around again to walk left and made no attempt to rejoin him on the lift or even make eye contact. Instead she resolutely walked down the hallway out of his view as the lift doors finally closed.

"Level Four – Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Please watch your step."

Ron continued to say nothing as he was trying to absorb everything that had just happened.

"Level Three – Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Please watch your step."

_Maybe she's regretting her mistake and is too proud to want to talk about it._ Ron argued with himself at trying to guess what it really meant by Hermione running off the lift. _Or more likely, she just doesn't want to talk with me. Maybe, she was the one that got the Ministry to transfer me. Nooo… that doesn't make any bloody sense, even she doesn't have that type of pull. Not yet anyway. Maybe she fears I'll break up her relationship with Derrick if I talk to her. I wonder how much of a relationship does she have with him? Could she really love him?_

"Level Two – Department of Magical Law Enforcement and being alone for the rest of your life. Please watch your step."

Ron shook his head to break out of his doldrums as now his hearing was playing tricks on him. Or at least he hoped it was. If not this snarky lift was going to suffer a major "maintenance problem" of that he was sure.

Ron walked into the Auror's office to find a new coat of paint on the walls and new wanted posters that were re-posted throughout the office. Even the campground fire smell had been replaced with a strong and please-able fragrance of Lavender. To this he had to credit the work of Reginald Cattermole from the Magical Maintenance Department. Reg was proudly standing by his desk next to Neville waiting for his arrival.

"Ron. I managed to fix most everything." Reg offered as he scanned the entire office at the work he had done.

It used to be Mr. Weasley and Mr. Cattermole years ago when he first started working at the Ministry but it didn't take long before they start calling each other by their first name. Reg had this much needed talent of fixing whatever damage Ron or Harry created during and after Auror training with no questions asked or Ministry reports filed. Needless to say, be it the Atrium flooding with a pool of bubbling soaps or the Auror's office almost burning down to the floor - Reg was a useful man to know.

"Thank you, Reg. I still can't believe I almost burned the office to the ground." Ron attested that he wasn't even aware of the fact that he started the fires in the first place.

Reg nodded in understanding as he picked up his wand and a few empty buckets of paint before he whispered to him, "I feel the same way if Mary left me. Just so you know - don't let me catch you kissing my wife again."

Ron's face went red as he barked out a defense, "She kissed me."

Reg started slowly walking out of the office as he replied, "I know… she told me."

"What was that about?" Neville asked with a bit of confusion on his face.

"Don't ask." Ron shot back as he took his seat at his desk.

Neville shook his head before he commented, "We still can't seem to get your Chudley Cannons cannonball back together. It's odd. It won't magical seal together."

Ron gloomily looked down on his desk and noticed that both ends of the highly collectable orange cannonball were cracked completely apart. He also knew the reason why too.

It was a loving birthday gift from Hermione.

Ron didn't even try to seal it back together as he knew it was now hopeless and lost. Instead he dropped one half in the bottom drawer of his desk and accidentally dropped the other half onto the floor beside him. Neville said nothing of his mistake and silently reached down and picked up the loose half off the floor. However as Neville picked up the loose half, Ron noticed a small white parchment fell out of Neville's Auror robes. Ron reached over and picked it up for an absent minded Neville who was always losing one thing or another over the years. To Ron's astonished surprise it was a list of all the current and past passwords you used to unlock an Auror cuffs.

"Neville, please tell me you never lost this." Ron begged his fellow co-worker and good friend as he remembered he had done the exact same thing in their third year at Hogwarts.

Neville's eyes lit up as he realized what Ron was holding.

"No… I mean… I always have it on me."

"Neville be honest with me. Did you ever misplace this… even for a little while?" Ron whispered to Neville as he knew that Neville would get in a whole lot of trouble if anyone else found out about that list.

Neville gulped in fear as he guiltily whispered back. "No… I mean… I might've misplaced it for… a few minutes. I'm not saying I lost it. I might have… thought it was gone… and then found out it wasn't gone."

"Where?" Ron whispered back as he grabbed both of Neville's shoulders to look him straight in the eye.

"I… I was doing a prisoner transfer—"

"Where Neville? This is important."

"P… Paris. Please Ron this is my last day. Don't tell anyone." Neville begged.

Ron smiled to reassure his best friend and co-worker for the last four years. "I won't tell a living soul, Neville, you have my word."

Ron relaxed and set back down at his desk to help Neville relax. He now knew how Umbridge escaped and where he could find her.

"Tell me about Paris. What's it like? Did you notice anybody suspicious?"

Neville started talking normal again as the color in his face started turning back to normal. "It's like that book, you know… _The Tale of Two Cities_. On the surface it's beautiful and elegant, but underneath. Right underneath the French Ministry is the dungeons." Neville looked a bit scared like he was watching Professor Snape lecture at him again. "It's medieval. Be careful Ron - it's dangerous down there."

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><p><strong>AN**: Happy Holidays and don't forget to REVIEW!


	15. Chapter 15: A Weasley in Paris

**Author's Note: **Smut… man I don't even like saying it. It's my Southern roots and upbringing that makes me hesitant about doing this. I was raised on the Biltmore Estate in North Carolina during a few of my summers' off with the Southern _by-the-grace-of-God_ discipline that you don't talk to the Feds where the moonshine still is and you don't talk about what goes on behind bedroom doors in public. Neither is anybody's business. So believe me when I say this chapter is NOT about anybody in particular. This is strictly fictional. I'm writing this because I never wrote one. I'm a bit competitive and I want to beat a few female writers out there in their own genre.

**The last one third of this chapter is smut, so if you are offended or sensitive about this sort of thing then please stop reading after Ron gets invited to dinner.**

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><p><strong>Beta's Note: <strong>Rebounds. It goes without saying that people find them necessary. We all want Ron to find himself to be a better person before he can reunite with Hermione. And it is not like Hermione is sitting up in her room knitting him a sweater waiting for him. They are flawed human beings that might make mistakes. That being said, enjoy the chapter.

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><p><strong>Chapter 15: A Weasley in Paris<strong>

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times for Ron that afternoon. On the one hand he was given a promotion of sorts. He was made the Ministry of Magic official Auror liaison with the French Ministry. The problem with that was it didn't come with a promotion to Senior Auror or even so much as a raise. The promotion was in name or more specifically title only. This seemed a bit foolish as opposed to the ever increasing wisdom of simply quitting and working with his brother George. Then there was the matter of moving to France out of his expensive flat in London. Given the current events of his life it seemed like a pretty good enlightened move to be moved away in a separate country from his ex-girlfriend, Hermione Granger. The dark part of it all was moving out of something that he had invested so much in too. Then there was the spring of hope that Professor Dumbledore had entrusted him with new powers of magic. His winter of despair however was the fact that he couldn't made a knut of sense about it. In short, his afternoon was being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.*

Ron smiled to himself as he held onto the International Portkey on the sixth level at the Ministry. It wasn't because he finally moved out of his expensive flat that morning. It wasn't even the fact, that he was now noticing a lot more females at work were catching his attention with an open and available look and smile. Nope… he was uncontrollably smiling to himself that he left behind a Demon Dung cracker in Senior Auror Harry Potter's lavish office. It served him right, after he saw Harry privately talking with Hermione in the Atrium. No doubt, he was telling a suddenly jubilant Hermione that he was leaving the country. Maybe the two of them would even have a party later.

_Bloody turncoat. Hope he goes home smelling like that._

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><p>"Wow," softly whispered Ron to himself, after landing in the spacious gardens and offices of the French Ministry of Magic, or as they called it Department de la Magie. It was nothing like he had ever seen before; it was simply … <em>wow<em>. It made the opulent Malfoy's Manor look like Hagrid's hut.

The French Ministry was completely underground in the middle of Paris, on a natural island called the Île de la Cité, on the Seine River. From what Neville told him, it was under the Palais de Justice or more specifically it was magically between the above-ground Palace and the underground medieval prison. More interestingly was the fact that it was also next to the Seine River. By that, Ron was flabbergasted to see the Seine River magically run underground through the middle of the entire Ministry. He stood in awe as he watched the Seine River waterfall 50 meters downward in the heart of the Ministry's Atrium. Then softly the Seine River slowly moved 300 meters horizontal, before swiftly cascading 50 meters upward to above-ground where it belonged. To him the entire concept and sheer raw beauty of it was_… bloody brilliant_.

In the middle part of the river, it looked like a completely normal view of the Seine River above ground. The river even had numerous golden swans swimming gracefully in circles. With birds chirping overhead, tulips blooming in vast manicured groves next to the river and visitors sipping wine at various tables and gold plated benches next to the river, you got the sense that you were at the park. In the middle of the open park, alongside the Seine River, set a small café serving fresh croissants and chardonnay to various visitors and ministry employees. Even the ceiling was enchanted to resemble a bright blue cloudless day with a glowing soft natural orb light representing the sun. While on both sides of the river stood massive white marble buildings with golden iron wrought balconies for each office. In all, each building carried hundreds of offices that ascended at least five stories tall. They were connected to one another with a stone arched bridge across the river in the middle of the park.

"Makes my office look like shite," cracked Ron at how paltry the Ministry of Magic in Great Britain looked in comparison.

After admiring the grandeur of everything around him, Ron thought it best to report in, but wasn't sure which building he was supposed to do that at. He noticed a rather unassuming Ministry employee busily walking toward one of the buildings to Ron's left and thought, he would be a good person to ask for assistance.

"Excuse me, Sir… sir"

The Percy-looking man said, "S'il vous plaît être Sir bref, j'ai une réunion à y assister." French: _Please be brief Sir, I have a meeting to attend._

"I need… to know… where I can find… the Aurors'… you see, I'm an Auror. Do you know where I can find the French Aurors?" Ron frustratingly tried to say in broken English to a man that clearly was looking at Ron as he didn't understand a single word he was saying.

"Un autre touriste perdu qui ne peuvent pas parler français. Comme c'est merveilleux." The now irritated looking Frenchmen said. French: _Another tourist lost that can't speak French. How wonderful._

Ron was now realizing, he needed to cast the Translator Charm on himself, if he was going to understand a single word that anyone was saying to him in French. Hopefully, it wouldn't give him too big of a headache.

Ron pulled out his wand and cast the charm on his head. Instantly the man started speaking to him in a language that really didn't seem like French.

"Wenn Sie für die Toiletten suchen sie hinter dem Café." German: _If you are looking for the lavatories they are behind the cafe._

The man was now point at the café behind him for what he had no idea.

Ron tried again. "Warten Sie, ich durcheinander dies beschleunigen. Lassen Sie mich..." German: _Wait Sir, I messed this up. Let me..._ Ron recast the charm by pointing his wand at his nose. " там что-то сказать по-французски." Russian: there - say something in French. "Мерлин, хорошо это должны делать это." Russian: _Merlin, okay this should do it._ Ron pointed his wand at his lips and re-cast the Translation Charm.

"Hey, do you know what I'm saying now?" Ron shouted at the busy French Ministry official briskly walking away from him.

"Yes," shouted the man back at him as he briskly walked away from him.

"Great," griped Ron as he was forced to ask another Ministry employee for directions.

"Mr. Weasley? Mr. Weasley! Ronald, over here," Shouted a familiar voice from the bridge.

Ron looked back to see a short and plump man with a pointed black beard waving at him from on top of the bridge. Immediately he remembered him as Fleur's father who visited the Burrow during Bill and Fleur's wedding.

"Mr. Delacour."

"Yes, my boy. Welcome," warmly offered Mr. Delacour as he closed the distance and offered Ron a griping handshake. "And call me Monsieur. We are family."

"Thank you, sir." Ron smiled in return and felt a bit more relaxed at seeing a friendly face.

"Sir, can you tell me which building and which office I can find the French Director of Justice?"

Mr. Delacour seemed a bit surprised by the question but eager to help Ron by pointing out the building across the bridge.

"His office is on the fifth floor near the center, but you won't find him in his office."

"Why not, sir," inquired Ron hoping that his new boss wasn't out in the field somewhere.

Mr. Delacour smiled before answering, "Because I wanted to welcome you in person." With that Mr. Delacour kissed Ron on both cheeks before chuckling. "Welcome to France. You will find our country to be the birthplace of love."

Ron could only offer a half-heartedly smile, as he didn't know at that moment whether to be thankful for the opportunity to have discovered love with Hermione Granger, or to personally hold France responsible for that love by invading it and burning everything to the ground.

"Now Ronald, I want you to get comfortable while you're here with us in France. Let me know if you need anything, anything at all while you're here."

"Thank you, sir." Ron responded at how easy everything was going for him since he traveled to Paris.

"Monsieur… it's Monsieur, Ronald. We're family, my dear boy. Now tonight, I want you to come over for dinner. Apolline would be very upset if you didn't. I have to say that Gabrielle would certainly insist upon it too."

Ron's cheeks must have gone red, as he swiftly remembered how beautiful Gabrielle was when he seen her last at the Shell Cottage during Christmas. He always had a crush on Fleur, but Gabrielle had grown into the better looking of the two. She was drop-dead gorgeous and sexy even without the Quarter-Veela working for her. She had silky silvery blonde hair and a dazzling smile that made you want to kiss her before she even had a chance to say hello. In fact, if it wasn't for the intimidating presence of Bill threatening him with bodily harm or Hermione squeezing his arm tightly to remind him that he was taken; he would've kissed her madly.

"I would be delighted." Smiled Ron hoping that the Translation Charm wasn't telling Mr. Delacour what he really wanted to do with his daughter.

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><p>If Ron thought Gabrielle was drop-dead gorgeous and sexy before, then right now he could honestly say that he was way too conservative with his assessment. Way, way too conservative. She was wearing a simple body-hugging black dress that carried an awe inspiring low cleavage neck line revealing two perfectly plump sun cream bronze colored breasts. The long cleavage line that formed the boundaries between the two poetry inspiring breasts were making his fingers tingled with excitement at the dream of squeezing them even more tightly together. Even her dress was in on the act, as both of the small black spaghetti straps that the dress hung on, kept falling down to her tanned arm than her own rigid shoulders. Greater than the dress, was the unbreakable look of desire on her face, as she occasionally looked over at him to either wet her dark crimson lips with her protruding tongue, or to slowly and decadently lick her spoon for his own private showing. Unfortunately, his own rapid shallow breathing was betraying him at the dining room table, as all he could focus on was Gabrielle softly rubbing her foot in a circular pattern on his bulging lap.<p>

"Ronald? Ronald... are you okay? Your face looks totally red."

Ron broke out of Gabrielle's spell to notice that both of her parents, Monsieur and Apolline Delacour were staring at him in a bit of a worry.

"What," asked Ron not having a clue as to what they had said or why they were both looking at him rather strangely?

"Dear, maybe we should take him to zee hospital," voiced Gabrielle's mom.

Gabrielle lightly kicked his bulging lap, in order to secretly tell him that she didn't want him to leave for the hospital.

"Ah… no I'm fine. It's… the food! Just not use to French food – that's all. I promise." Ron outright lied and was instantly rewarded with the continuation of the circular foot patterns from Gabrielle.

"If you're certain," responded Monsieur Delacour, totally unaware of his daughter's long legs reaching across and underneath the table to his lap.

"So Ronald, I thought you were working on an important case in England. Have you given up on that case to be here with us?" Mr. Delacour asked rather impulsively.

Ron nervously knew that if he didn't respond that Mr. Delacour would start to wonder why. The why being his daughter's foot was now rubbing him up and down instead of in a circular pattern.

"I… I haven't given up on that. We… we know she's somewhere here in France."

Normally, Ron wouldn't have volunteered that information up so easily but most of his blood was traveling south.

"Really? Are you certain that Umbridge is here? I would think that she is still hiding in England."

"Father!" Gabrielle barked, as her foot vanished from his lap. "You promised that you wouldn't talk about zee Ministry."

Mr. Delacour looked a bit disappointed and he reluctantly acquiesced to his daughter's wishes.

"Now Ronald, we have several guess rooms in zee South wing… or is it zee East wing?" Mrs. Delacour listed and then inquired of her husband to which side of their Mansion set the guest rooms.

"East wing, Love. South is zee stables where Gabrielle keeps her flying pet horses."

Excitedly, Gabriele bounced out of her chair. "Ronald, you have to see my Pegasus! Father can I show him, pleaze, pleaze?"

Mr. Delacour exhaled in frustration, as by the time he finally nodded in agreement, Gabrielle had already raced around the dinner table and swiftly grabbed Ron's arm. She was briskly dragging him out of the formal Dining room with a nervous Ron in tow.

As they made their way east from the huge Formal Dining room; he was having a painful time of keeping up with Gabrielle as his legs were wobbly from the lack of blood circulation. Even tougher on him was that every time a leading Gabrielle would suddenly stop walking, he would crash into her tight bum from behind. He was even beginning to wonder, if she was doing it on purpose as she would slowly rub her bum up and down against him. After the third sudden stop in the hallway she tilted her head back and whisper to him, "You seem very excited to be here. Oui?"

Ron was already lost, either from Gabrielle's Veela powers or from her strutting her cute tight bum, as she quickly glided him to an empty guest bedroom on the second floor. It had what you would expect of a Master French bedroom: a Queen Size bed, a brass bedframe, and leather straps hanging from the ceiling.

"What, what are those for?" Ron inquired, as if awakening from a spell since dinner.

"Oh Ronald… shhh," whispered Gabrielle, before magically slamming the door shut behind them. "It's whatever… you want to use them for."

Ron's could easily feel his face turning blood red as Gabrielle slowly started to unbuckle his pants.

"Gab.. Gabrielle, maybe we should take it eh… slow. You know, get to know one another." Ron begged, as he held back an eager looking Gabrielle.

From the hungry smile playing on Gabrielle's face it didn't look as if that was going to happen.

"If zat what you want?"

Ron never got to answer before Gabrielle kneeled down in front of him. She smoothly unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and then swiftly pulled down his boxers. The final release of his tight pants and boxers extinguished any desire he had of leaving.

"Fleur said Bill was big, but I always wondered if you were too. Oh yes… you are… very big. Is everyone in your family this big?"

A broad smiling Ron looked down to see Gabrielle doing her best to swallow him whole only to come up short with each gulp.

"To bloody hell with Bill," Ron groaned as he abandoned the last elements of resistance in his mind and then surged his hips to go deeper into her mouth.

It didn't take long for Ron to be reaching critical, as all her sucking was making it all but impossible for him not to release in her mouth.

"Not yet, not yet," Ron angrily rebelled; as he pushed away at a now annoyed Gabrielle and then swiftly lifted her off the floor into his arms.

He gingerly carried her to the bed and watched, as she enthusiastically slipped out of her dress and slid underneath the bed sheets. He boldly reunited with her underneath the bed sheets. Immediately he crashed his lips and tongue on her pouting lips and mouth while his free hands began exploring her body. It took only a gentle hard squeeze of her breasts to produce a soft whimper of lusty approval. Before too long, her hands were guiding a part of him deep inside her. However, in her youthful eagerness she had forgotten how big he really was.

"Oh my… it's big."

He cheekily responded, "Is zat what you want?"

"Oui. Oh… oh… oh Merlin. OUI!"

By now, Ron was establishing a pattern of deep thrusts, concurring with breath-taking kisses, that forced her deeper into ecstasy. Often he would change their sexual positions from missionary, to doggie, to reverse cowgirl, to side-by-side, and then finally to her back on top of him. Like he had experienced earlier, she was the one now fighting to stop from having an exploding orgasm first. She failed miserably, when he squeezed and then hungrily sucked her succulent nipples. He doubled his speed of pounding deep inside her body and victoriously watched as her body completely surrendered to him. He patiently waited for her to finish, before whispering in her ear.

"I want more."

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><p><strong>AN:** I re-wrote this from the botched original. BTW, I don't see the problem with having an aggressive sexual female that isn't Hermione. I dare to be different. As always - REVIEW!

* = The first paragraph I was paraphrasing and using direct quotations from **Charles Dickens**, _A Tale of Two Cities_ English novelist (1812 - 1870)


	16. Chapter 16: Firewhiskey reflections

**Author's Rant:** How can you describe Ron and Hermione's love? I know the words True Love or Soul-Mates are thrown about in the cauldron but let's try to be a bit more realistic. In modern-day Muggle terms, I would say they were flawed individually but together they are as perfect as you can have when dealing with human beings. One is Hyper-Intelligent Book smart while the other more grounded in good common sense. One is outwardly and sociable while the other is anti-social and inwardly. Blah, blah, blah… yeah we all know the comparisons.

What I'm trying to say in my own fortune cookie wisdom is that everything and everybody needs balance in order to achieve perfection of harmony. Balance is the correction of their opposite's faults that leads them to happiness. Naturally or maybe magically, Ron and Hermione have such a balance between them. I can't imagine anyone else for Ron and I can't imagine anyone else for Hermione. Oh I know, a lot of Harry-Hermione shippers are saying it's all bullocks and unrealistic to expect that Ron would be a good choice for Hermione. (_By the way, does it bother anyone else that they never say that Hermione would never be a good choice for Ron.) _Anyway, to quell this micro-revolt of resistance… (_as JKR has already masterfully sunk it to the shipwreck bottom of the ocean_.) I'll say this on the subject; do you honestly think that Harry would be able to give Hermione a smile even when he felt horrible or tired? Would he listen on how bad a day Hermione was having at the Ministry after a hard day at work as an Auror? Would Harry listen to Hermione go on and on about her wishing of him to be more safe or taking another job that was safer in the Ministry? If you know the characters, the answer is an unequivocal no. Ginny doesn't baby Harry or mother him, like Hermione would and that's why he correctly ended up with Ginny and not Hermione.

To finish up on my rant about Ron and Hermione, I'll give this fortune cookie quote to you:

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><p><strong>You know you truly love somebody when they hurt you so badly, but all you can think about it is the times when they made you smile.<strong>

_**Lucky Numbers**_**: 5, 19, 29, 45, 47, 25**

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><p>Ron can make Hermione smile, he can keep Hermione in balance, and Hermione in return can do the same with Ron. These are the words that I use to describe Ron and Hermione's love: <span>Balance<span>, Harmony, Happiness, and Perfection.

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><p><strong>Beta's Note: <strong>How's about for a little comic relief about now?

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><p><strong>Chapter 16: Firewhiskey reflections<strong>

As Ron looked at himself in the guest bathroom mirror early that morning, he had to admit he didn't like what he saw. Only a few hours ago, he was having splendid sex with a younger and more beautiful woman. Truth be told, it wasn't about love or caring for the young girl. No, the all-night session was clearly an act of forbidden temptation and physical lust.

_Why did he do it_, he asked himself in the mirror. Because he could, after all he was a man… with needs. Nothing tying him down, no girlfriend or love to speak of; he was a free agent. He had effectively burned every ounce of sexual frustration that he carried over from Hermione.

That bit of reasoning made him looked downward toward the sink as he couldn't bear looking at himself anymore. His mind swirled with the image of the last person he truly loved.

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><p><em><strong>Outside the Burrow on a lovely winter night.<strong>_

Hermione was wearing blue jeans and a loose shirt as it was still decently warm outside. She looked up at him and smiled, as she seemed perfectly content to hold his hand and lean on his shoulder while they walked together toward the pond.

"Do you suppose that we'll be able to get together for Christmas?" Ron inquired as he enjoyed holding Hermione's hand.

"I'm sure we can meet after Christmas. My family wants to take a trip to the South of France during the holidays."

Ron grimaced a little from the realization that Hermione's family was rich and could provide for Hermione far better than he ever could as an Auror trainee. More depressing, he wouldn't be spending Christmas morning with her.

Hermione, seeing his serious demeanor and obvious frown, looked up at him and promised, "Ron, I love you. It doesn't matter how much money you make or if we are away from one another. I'll always love you."

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><p>Ron angrily looked back up at the mirror and saw a bloke that was lied to. She never truly loved him. If she had, then why would he have to do this? Why would he have to make love to someone else that he didn't even care for? It was her fault. Hermione had ruined his life.<p>

_I hope she's miserable_ - _like I am_, Ron wished to himself." _I hope Derrick uses her and … and she finds out that he never really loved her. He just wanted her for publicity and such. That and any other bloke she ever meets will be just as bad. Plus, I hope that stupid fan club of hers sees her as she really is. A lying, delusional-_

"Ronald," moaned a soft voice from the bedroom. "Are you in zee bathroom?"

"Merlin." Ron griped, as he realized that Gabrielle was now awake.

"Yeah, you need something?" Ron inquired rather business like.

"What time is it?" Gabrielle moaned from the bed.

Ron looked at his watched before replying, "Nine twenty."

"Nine… you should've left by now. All the other men leave by now. My father will be here any minute."

"What other men? You said I was your first." Ron snapped back at her with confusion.

After walking out of the bathroom with nothing but his boxers and his wand, he noticed the annoyed look on Gabrielle's face told him that he was daft for even believing her in the first place.

_Come to think of it, why did I believe her_? Ron thought to himself at how dense he must've been last night in Gabrielle's company.

Not that he cared. He really didn't. If Gabrielle was content for this to be a one-night shag it was perfectly fine by him. He also really didn't care what Bill or anyone else had to say about it either.

"Gabrielle," Shouted the unmistakable voice of Mr. Delacour from outside the bedroom.

A look of terror flashed on Gabrielle's face as she leaped off the bed toward Ron.

"Geet out! Leave. He cannot sez you." Gabrielle demanded as she started pushing him toward a balcony window.

"**Gabrielle! Are you in there? You have better be alone!**"

"Wait… wait let me get my clothes on." Ron insisted as Gabrielle was expediently rolling him out of the bedroom with nothing but his wand and his boxers.

"Call me," offered Gabrielle as she pushed him out onto the balcony window and then slammed it shut after him.

"Bloody hell," Ron groaned as the balcony wasn't a balcony at all, it was a ledge on the second floor.

The loud arguing noise coming from inside the guestroom told him that he couldn't go back in. In addition, Ron knew he wouldn't be able to Apparate as he was certain there was an Anti-Apparation ward that prevented non-direct family members from arriving or leaving from the estate. Therefore, his only option left was to climb down from the ledge and run off the property. Fortunately, Ron saw there was a water drain gutter on the side of the ledge that he was able to climb down half-way with. Unfortunately, the other half of the way was him falling straight down into the thorny cushion of a rose bush because said water drain gutter had popped off the building. He had a funny feeling it was from fatigue for being over used by other blokes climbing out of Gabrielle's guest room. That funny feeling and moreover the feeling of numerous thorns sticking through his arse. Still the pain in his arse didn't prevent him from making a flat out barefoot dash for the iron-wrought fence as two snarly big guard dogs chased him off the property. By the time, he finally cleared the fence after only getting bit once on the arse by the meaner looking of the two dogs, he could truly reflect on what got him there.

"I hope Hermione gets an infection." Ron snarled as he Accio'd back his boxers from the dogs that were playfully chewing on them on the other side of the fence.

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><p>He had to stop off in the Muggle tourist section of Paris for some clothes before he finally made his way into the "The Lady M" pub by lunch time to meet his Order of the Phoenix contact. The bar's motif was definitely Scottish even with the pretty French waitresses. As for the customers they were a sorted bunch of expatriates from Britain and Ireland. Sprinkled in with that lot were various Goblins and Vampires to fill it almost completely up.<p>

"Mate, over here." An unknown voice shouted from behind the bar.

Ron had to look past all the patrons gawking at him to see a rather large Scottish chap waving for him to come over. He closed the distance and gingerly set down on the stool, _as his arse was still stinging_, before introducing himself.

"I'm looking for—"

"You found him." The older man said with a heavy Scottish accent. "Interesting clothes you have there."

Ron grimaced as he looked down at his white "_I Luv Paris_" t-shirt and his skimpy black swim shorts. The t-shirt wasn't as embarrassing as the swim shorts that scarcely kept his bits "concealed" from public view. It was all he could find at the Muggle tourist gift shop near the Eiffel Tower.

"From the rose pedal in your hair and your clothes, I say you had a rather interesting night," offered the comical Scottish bartender.

Ron said nothing as he immediately started shaking his head to knock out the pedal from his red hair.

"It's always the mornings where you have to deal with the consequences. That's why I'm more of a night owl myself. The name is Gerard Mackay. Welcome to the Lady M."

Ron warmly shook his head as he introduced himself.

"I'm Ron—"

"Weasley. Yes, I know. Your face is all over the paper this morning. You're not very good at being subtle Weasley. You might as well have ridden a Dragon down Champs-Elysees in broad daylight."

"What paper?" Ron inquired, as he hadn't spoken to a single journalist since he arrived in France.

Gerard magically summoned a French newspaper from across the barroom and then handed it off for him to read. On the front page was a huge picture of him speaking with Mr. Delacour in the French Ministry shortly after he arrived. Even more amazing was the fact that his name was spelled correctly on the headlines of a newspaper for the very first time. He could feel his heart racing with excitement as he tried to translate the French writings beneath the moving picture.

"_**Le célèbre Auror Ronald Weasley récemment ré-assigné de Grande-Bretagne pour mener des cas assassiner.**_**"**

"What does the word assassiner mean?" Ron asked a bit worriedly to Gerard.

"Murder," answered a very serious looking Scottish man he had just met less than ten seconds ago. "It says you've been reassigned from Britain to lead the investigation into all the murders we've had. More specifically into all the murders that the Immortals have committed"

"I… I didn't know anything about murders. I'm looking for Dolores Umbridge. They said she would be with the Immortals. What the bloody hell is going on?"

"That's what you're here for Mate. You tell us."

* * *

><p>Ron decided he needed to have a private meeting with Gerard Mackay and chose the pub's back office which to do it at.<p>

"What are the Immortals, and why the bloody hell would they bother to break out that miserable toad Umbridge?" Ron begged to know as he figured Gerard would have more local knowledge than anyone else. Definitely more than Ron himself.

"I take it you don't want the history lesson just the current events." Gerard pointed out as he pulled out two shot glasses from a wooden shelf.

"Yes… and what murders? Since Umbridge escaped or before?"

"Oh… I would say it started about the time you three were hiding out in England from Voldie-what's-his-name. Nothing noticeable at first, that's how they work. You see they leave no clues and no witnesses. Unlike your Death Eaters, who are accommodating enough to leave giant calling cards in the sky. No… the Immortals are a different breed of gits altogether." Gerard spoke as he pulled out a bottle of Firewhiskey from the bottom drawer of his desk.

"Merlin, that was over seven years ago," Ron spat. "They been killing people for the last seven years and nobody here has done anything to bloody stop them?"

"First lesson you're going to learn about the Frogs – they refuse to change." Gerard calmly stated as held up his pointing finger. "Second lessons is they always demand for reform and hope for a major revolution." Gerard raised his middle finger to illustrate it was the second point he was trying to make.

Ron was a bit bewildered with what Gerard stated of the French. "That doesn't make any bloody sense. Why would they not want to stop the Immortals from killing during all these years?"

Gerard popped open the bottle of Firewhiskey and started pouring in to the two shot glasses on his desk.

"I never said it made sense… that's the point. The Frogs are a complete hot mess when it comes to stuff like this. Whole families disappear, eh, they must've gone overseas. New State trade laws that profit a select few, eh, it's the State trying to protect the weak. The State is unable to track down the Immortals, eh, not true - the State can fix anything."

"The State?" Ron questioned as he reached over the desk for one of the shot glasses of Firewhiskey.

"The government… the Ministry of Magic." Gerard answered before he lifted his shot glass.

"We have a tip that whoever is leading the Immortals is also high up in the French Ministry, er… State, thing... whatever_._ What do you know about that?" Ron gasped the last sentence after drinking the shot glass. The Firewhiskey was now burning down his throat.

"It has to be. It's the only explanation for everything that has occurred. I told Minerva last year that someone in the French Ministry was helping the Immortals and she didn't believe me. Now Minerva finally believes me about something. Someone high up is worried about their little secret and is willing to go to great lengths to protect it. That's the only reason why the Immortals would bother to free Umbridge. She must know who the leader is and what they've been doing. Even Minerva couldn't argue with the logic of that."

Ron rudely corrected him, "You mean Headmistress McGonagall."

Gerard mood instantly changed from pleasant to irate as he retorted. "It's Minerva. Did she tell you to say that? Like I don't know her! Like we've never met?"

Gerard's demeanor surprised Ron; he had the look of a scorned man.

"Answer me!" Gerard irrationally shouted.

Ron defensively grabbed his wand underneath his white "_I Luv Paris_" t-shirt before answering. "She's my Head of House and my old Transfiguration Professor before the war. She has earned the respect to be called by her proper title."

Gerard took the bottle of Firewhiskey off his desk and snapped back to Ron in fury, "It's Minerva and I'm not one of her students. I was her lover."

With that shocking revelation, Ron watched as Gerard down the entire bottle of Firewhiskey straight from the bottle.

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><p><strong>AN:** Okay I don't want to hear you gripping that Ron shouldn't be blaming Hermione for him shagging Gabrielle. It's called Character Development. **Don't forget to Review!**


	17. Chapter 17: With coworkers like this

**Author's Note: **Okay let me start off by saying – **Merlin**. I think I lost half my readers over Ron having a one off with Gabrielle Delacour. This seems absurd to me when so many Hermione-Snape, Hermione-Draco, Hermione-Dumbledore, Hermione-Bill, Hermione-George, Hermione-Fred, (_This girl gets around a lot_), Hermione-Ginny, Hermione-Harry, and Hermione-_insert name here_fics are out there already. Seriously? Ron having a passionate night of sex with a sexy and promiscuous French 18 year old girl is out of bounds? WTF!

"Oh she's family." "Ron would always put his family first and would never have sex with Gabrielle."

Okay first and foremost, _Gabrielle is not family_. Can someone tell me what a sister-in-law's younger sister is? Cousin-in-law… perhaps? I Googled and Yahoo'd the answer and it came back "friend," and "No relations." Cousin-in-law didn't apply either as that means your cousin's spouse.

Second, Gabrielle is French… she's gorgeous… she's single… she's quarter Veela and has that sexy vibe that she can put out - that we all know that Ron is not immune from… and she's young - as in she's **18!** Did I mention that she is French and single? Hello?

Let me interject a bit of personal experience in this rant, there was an older French foreign exchange student staying with my aunt and uncle in Montreal when I was 16. During a visit, my uncle and aunt got upset with my Grandfather that the French exchange student, whom they considered a member of the family, because she was staying with them, was not invited to the family summer picnic. Now I was also upset… not because I viewed her as family, but because I wanted to hit on her and make out with her during said boring family picnic. Now that I'm a bit older and wiser let me put this issue to rest. I still don't care what my uncle, aunt, or anyone else in the family thought about her being family. **She's not.** She was however a total French hottie that could barely speak English and I would've lovvvveeed the opportunity to have taught her. Viva La France!

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><p><strong>Beta's Note: I am also bothered by this Puritanical view of Ron's activities. Ron is a man whose long-time girlfriend just broke up with him. An ill-advised romp with a willing and sexy young lady is not out of the bounds of the possible at all. If that bothers you, you really aren't looking for a well written story that is realistic.<strong>

:::

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><p><strong>Chapter 17: With co-workers like this<strong>

Ron didn't want to ask Gerard Mackay what he meant by being Professor McGonagall's past lover. The possibility of the prim and proper McGonagall having a shag with a lowly Scottish bloke was simply preposterous. Moreover the idea of a spinster like McGonagall ever having sex with _anyone_…was to be brutally honest – scary as hell. However, from Gerard's lonely and distraught face it was evident that they shared something together. Of course, the image in his head of the two of them going at it was nauseating enough to earn his silence on the subject forever. Nevertheless, he still wanted to learn more about the Immortals.

"You have any contacts or leads on who is an Immortal?"

Gerard eventually broke away from his stupor to address Ron's question with an answer. "No one specific… we suspect a few… mainly those with wealth or position that would be helpful to the group."

"And their names would be?" Ron rather cheekily asked in frustration at how he felt like he was pulling Dragon's teeth to get a definitive answer.

The sarcasm was not lost on Gerard as his eyes squinted a bit in anger. Grudgingly, he answered, "The Governor of the Ministry dungeon is most likely an Immortal. Too many prisoners have died of suicide or trying to escape under his charge for it to be coincidence. Mind you, rumor has it that he's too stupid and lazy to do a proper job of covering up their deaths by claiming it was natural causes or an accident. Not that it matters, whoever is running the show does a good job of keeping anyone from asking too many questions about it."

"I'll start off with him then. Anyone else?"

"Yes, your fellow Aurors."

"Which Aurors," asked Ron a bit upset that a fellow Auror, even an Auror from another country, would tarnish their badge by working as an Immortal? He didn't know about these Frenchies, but where he came from, they took pride in these types of things.

"All of them."

"Bloody hell."

:::

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><p>Luckily, Ron's new flat wasn't too far from The Lady M pub and he found it to be considerably nicer than his London flat. The rooms were bigger and more over a bit brighter and pleasant. His old flat always felt like a stuffy library to him. Which considering it was Hermione that pick it out for him made perfect sense as that was what she enjoyed. This apartment, however, felt alive like a Quidditch pitch. His flat had Tuscany color walls, wide open spaces, windows that overlooked a garden courtyard and enough natural sunlight during the day to see without the use of magical candles or even Muggle made lighting. Better than that, the UK Ministry was picking up the rent. He was working out of country making everything he ate and lived at on the Ministry dole. This kept Ron smiling from ear to ear with the knowledge that at long last there was a real benefit to being an Auror.<p>

"Hoot. Hoot."

Ron watched as his faithful owl, Pig, swooped excitedly around the room and then out into the courtyard. Clearly, he was also happy with their new flat.

"Merlin, this place kicks London's arse."

Ron walked into the living room and noticed all of his packed boxes and suitcases were waiting for him.

"Hello, Ronald."

Ron looked around the room to notice a small portrait of Professor Dumbledore on top of the fireplace mantle. He was sitting on his high chair as if he was waiting for the evening meal to be served in the Great Hall.

"So you come with the place too," asked Ron a bit nervous that Professor Dumbledore was going to remind him that he still needed to study.

"We thought it would be a good way for us to keep er… contact with you while you're in Paris."

Ron rolled his eyes on the "we" part. "I take it Professor McGonagall wasn't content on relaying information through Gerard."

Professor Dumbledore answered rather diplomatically, "I'm afraid that there were other issues concerning that."

"Merlin – I heard. So what's the deal with them two?"

Professor Dumbledore paused a moment to consider his answer and then said, "I can only tell you that at one time they were inseparable. A great many of us thought they were to be married."

"What happened then?" Ron inquired, as he was beginning to see similarities with Hermione and Professor McGonagall. Too many similarities for Ron's sake. A little information might make his life a little easier.

"Love I'm afraid can take many twists and turns, as you also can attest to. Minerva sought an Academic career over a family. Gerard, a good chap, has been left carrying a torch for her ever since."

Ron wondered if he was also fated to carrying a torch for Hermione for the rest of his life. The similarities were getting too close for comfort. Forget about information making things easier.

"I don't suppose you could tell me how a bloke can stop a head strong stubborn female from being mental?"

"Gerard asked me that exact question twenty five years ago."

Ron rolled his eyes in frustration before changing the subject. "I suppose you knew beforehand about all the murders that have been going on here by the Immortals."

Professor Dumbledore nodded solemnly and said, "I was more receptive to Gerard's warnings than Minerva was."

"Would've been nice to get a heads up about that," commented Ron, a bit leery at being kept in the dark.

From Professor Dumbledore's facial expression, he was sympathetic to his request.

"Like I said before, the Headmistress was less receptive of Gerard's numerous warnings. She wanted a more independent assessment of the climate in France."

Ron only grunted in reply as he nodded his head at what Professor Dumbledore was really trying to tell him. Professor McGonagall didn't tell him about the murders because she doesn't trust Gerard because of their past history together. It was completely daft but love had a way of making even the most reserved person quite irrational.

Professor Dumbledore had broken the silence with a question of his own, "Have you been doing any studies since you arrived in Paris?"

Ron inwardly groaned, as he hated school work assignments even the all-powerful learn-to-use magic type.

"No sir. To be honest, I haven't been able to make much headway on your schoolbook. Other than there are two completely different types of magic. The traditional way that we were brought up with at Hogwarts and your… _unconventional _way."

Professor Dumbledore's eyes seem to sparkle as he responded to a dejected Ron. "Ronald my boy, then you have… learned something. You opened your mind to possibilities of something completely different than the way you were taught at Hogwarts. Now, we must go beyond textbooks... go out into the bypaths and untrodden depths of the unknown."

Ron didn't feel like untrodden anything. He simply wanted to change out of his clothes and unpack his belongings without spending the night stuck in a boring schoolbook.

"Ronald, have you noticed the Seine River running through the French ministry?"

That caught Ron a bit by surprise. "Yes sir. I thought it was a really cool bit of magic the way it travels underground and then back to the surface."

"What you describe as a really cool bit of magic is no magic at all. I built that river in the early fifties." Professor Dumbledore said, as a matter of historical fact.

"You did," inquired Ron a bit skeptical at that claim. "Then why didn't… I mean, er… you're dead. How come the spell hasn't ended?"

Professor Dumbledore outwardly smiled to Ron as he confessed, "It wasn't magic. I simply helped the water to flow that way."

Ron seemed a bit lost on that concept and looked it.

"Ronald, perhaps a field trip would be more enlightening to you."

Ron loved field trips and any excuse to get out of classroom or extra school work was fine by him.

"May I suggest the Science Museum off Exhibition Road in London. You will find the 2nd floor to be of particular interests."

Ron wasn't sure what a Muggle museum had to offer him, but if Professor Dumbledore though it important enough, then he would go. Not tonight, but certainly tomorrow.

"I will, Professor, either tomorrow or this weekend. Right now, I just want to unpack and change my clothes."

As soon as he said that Pig came swooping backing into the living room and was erratically trying to get his attention.

"Hoot, Hoooot."

"What Pig?" asked Ron, not sure what his owl was trying to tell him as he opened his first suitcase.

**CRACK!**

Both Ron and Pig were forced to retreat to the safety of the courtyard with the unmistakable noise of belly laughter from Professor Dumbledore echoing throughout his new flat.

**HAAHAHA!**

:::

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><p>It took a great deal of coughing and hacking his lungs out in the courtyard for about twenty minutes to get rid of the taste of the Demon Dung cracker. It was like he ate a seven course dinner of Dragon dung mixed with pig excrement. He still couldn't believe it; he just opened up his old Gryffindor suitcase and then a Dung cracker blew up in his face.<p>

As for the individual that planted the cracker in his suitcase - they had left behind a note.

:::

* * *

><p><em>Ron,<em>

_I thought I __would __help you ship your luggage to your new place. Enjoy._

_Harry._

:::

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><p>"That little fish eye git." Ron growled, as he remembered that he had planted a Demon Dung cracker in Harry's office a day before.<p>

If Harry thought they were now even, then he didn't know Merlin. All was fair in Love and War and this was a little bit of both. In Ron's book, Harry now had another one coming.

He devilishly plotted his revenge for most of the night and was awakened the next day with an unwelcomed visit from Gerard Mackay.

"Weasley. Weasley! Get up. There's another murder in the Bourgogne providence near Sens. It's Jean Woerth."

Never the most alert bloke in the morning it took Ron a few seconds to realize what Gerard was asking.

"Jeans… no, I'm going to wear my trousers… zzzz."

"Get up Weasley!"

With that Ron found himself being drowned by a bucket of cold water magically levitating over his head.

"Bla, ble, cough, cough… what the bloody - HARRY!" Ron screamed out as he frantically looked around to kill his best mate for dousing him with a bucket of cold water.

"It's Mackay and you're in France." Gerard stated as bluntly as possible. "Now get up. There's another murder and it won't be long before it's all covered up and forgotten."

:::

* * *

><p>"I hate cold showers." Ron growled under his breath as he walked down a rural dirt road to a typical French farmhouse in the Bourgogne providence.<p>

He noticed a gathering of various French Ministry Law Enforcement and pesky French photographers were congregated around the back of the farmhouse versus the front. Normally, he walked over and introduced himself to the first responder on the scene but seeing how he was an outsider he thought it best to survey the crime scene by himself. His first thoughts about the house were that he found it a bit odd that the front door was still locked. He magically unlocked it and walked in unabated to notice the place was a rather small and unassuming farmhouse. He could tell from the living room and kitchen that this Jean bloke was a single man. It reminded him of his place after Hermione left… it definitely lacked a female touch. The room had no color curtains, old worn out rugs, dusty pictures and books on the bookcase, and a smell of musty tobacco throughout.

"_This bloke lived alone_," thought Ron, as he dreaded the thought of living like this himself. He stopped himself there before he went farther down the thought path to someone finding his body.

Ron continued on through the kitchen and noticed a single dirty plate, old coffee cup, and used breakfast frying pan in the kitchen sink. As he made his way to the back he saw a white draped body halfway out of the back door. Without hesitation, he pulled out his wand and magically levitated the white sheet off the dead body. Straightaway there was a protest from several people in the courtyard.

"Who lifted that? Identify yourself!"

Ron said nothing as he flashed his Auror badge behind him. He never even looked back to see who was asking. He was totally focusing on the old French man dressed for work lying tilted up against the backdoor. It wasn't a flat on your face lie you would expect from a man suffering a heart attack. This was more of a full magical spell hitting you from the side and slamming you up against the door. The old man's frozen facial expression was of going to work and not the thoughts of immediate death.

Ron looked back from the body to the most likely direction of the spell. Someone standing to the left of the farmhouse closest to the side of the barn would've been able to kill anyone walking out of the backdoor of the house without being noticed.

He also happened to notice the annoyed and sneer looks he was getting from the various French Magical Law Enforcement gathered in the back courtyard. Clearly they were not stopping him but they weren't going to be pleasant with him either. Behind them were a few French news photographers taking numerous pictures of him and the dead body. This too seemed to annoy some of the French Magical Law Enforcement present.

One Ministry official managed to finally say something to him.

"You have no authority here."

Ron cheekily smiled to him before saying, "Good morning. Who was the first to arrive on the scene?"

"We were," snarled a French bloke standing next to another one wearing identical beige trench coats.

The one that spoke flashed Ron a French Auror badge while the other one flashed him a rather unpleasant scowl.

Ron cautiously walked over to the two Aurors remembering what Gerard had told him the day before.

"The name is Ron Weasley; I'm your new British Auror Liaison."

Neither one said anything to him in reply as they looked straight at Ron in contempt of his mere presences of him being there. The one that had answered him had an arrogant French aristocratic look about him, while the other was more of a Crabbe-like thug. His protruding forehead made him look a few thousand years behind on the evolution scale of caveman to man.

Ron broke the silence with the most tactless and obvious question he shouldn't have said. "This seems odd for two Aurors to be the first at a crime scene. It's almost like you two were waiting for him."

While the aristocratic bloke could fake a facial expression of indifference; his Neanderthal partner had a shock look that he wasn't capable of masking.

"We responded to a Muggle police call made by the neighbor," reacted the aristocrat in an effort to shift his focus off his partner.

Ron didn't believe him for a second, but decided to be a bit wiser by watching what he said. "Where is the neighbor?"

Ron looked around the backyard to only see wizards, witches, and a few garden gnomes.

"We've already oblivated her memory and sent her home."

Ron watched as both of the Aurors seemed rather smug with that answer. He simply said nothing more to them as he walked away.

"Mr. Weasley! Mr. Weasley! Do you suspect this to be foul play?" A news reporter yelled at him.

Ron generally hated reporters' questions, but what he hated the most was them constantly flashing pictures at him. Magical camera bulbs could practically blind someone for hours. Fortunately for him and unfortunately for them, he had the greatest gift ever given to him: the Deluminator. He reached into his Auror robe, pulled it out and then with one small click, he was able to magically seize the light from every photographer's magical camera.

"What the… my camera?"

"St. Frances de Sales," shouted the other reporter!

Ron ignored their protests and made his way over to the barn at the most likely place that a killer would stand in waiting. As he turned around in a rather muddy spot to face the dead body in a straight line he couldn't help but notice that both of the French Aurors looked a bit edgy with him. He also noticed that both of their shoes were muddier than the rest of the Ministry Law Enforcement in the back courtyard.

"_Bloody hell_," thought Ron at how right Gerard was.

Not only that but it made him angry with the knowledge that he couldn't arrest them even if he had solid proof.

"It still doesn't work!" A reporter shouted in frustration after trying to magically re-light his camera's bulb with his own wand.

That's when he got an idea.

"Sorry Mate." Ron used the Deluminator again and returned the light back to each of the magical cameras before addressing them.

"Now you were asking me if I suspect foul play. Yes, this man was murdered."

Ron looked back to see both of the guilty Aurors were fearfully stunned at what Ron had just said to the press. This made him even bolder.

"The Immortals killed him."

Ron joyfully watched as both of the Aurors were in undeniable panic at what he had just said to the French magical press and via their newspapers – all of Magical France.

:::

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><p><strong>AN: **Please review.


	18. Chapter 18: French Candy

**Author's Notes: **I've been writing Harry Potter fiction since 2002 and I can honestly say there are but a few taboos and Unforgivable curses in Fanfiction. The taboo subjects are Religion, Politics, and JKR bashing. The Unforgivable curses are Plagiarism, like oh… co-authoring an award winning romantic fanfic, (_cough, __**A Kiss that Kills**__, cough_) and claiming sole ownership of it. Theft, some say this is still Plagiarism, but having my beloved **Dragonheart **stolen and re-posted as someone else's work in not once, but twice on separate occasions: a German and an English language websites. I can honestly tell you it is _**theft**__ plain and simple._

The last and most dangerous Unforgivable curse is the one _**Milan4ever**_ committed. You do not criticize other reviewers on their story. You can blast an Author all you want, but **YOU DO NOT CRITICIZE OTHER REVIEWERS! **

It's a website killer. A childish immature troll who criticizes another reviewer is like a cancer. This starts a chain reaction of readers who refuse to leave reviews out of fear of being criticize themselves. The authors stops getting reviews and in turn they stop writing. Ask yourself, how many stories have you seen not finished because the author wasn't getting any reviews? Several. Stories dry up, readers stop visiting and soon you have the downward spiral of a website begging for money. (_cough, __**Simply Undeniable**__ and __**Quidditch Pitch**__, cough_) :-D

**Interesting tidbit:** As of 2010, Fan is the largest and most popular fan fiction website in the world. It has nearly 2.2 million users and hosts stories in over 30 languages. (_Source: Wikipedia_)

Now I clearly believe that a reviewer has the right to criticize or praise the author and I have no problem with that. I've been accused of being Pro-Hermione, Anti-Hermione, Pro-Ron, and Anti-Ron. I've gotten negative and positive reviews on both side of the spectrum. HAHA! It doesn't bother me a bit. Really, it doesn't. I read and save ever review I ever got, and then I keep on writing. The truth is - I don't change my story to reflect readers' desires of what they want me to write. (_Note my rants_.) Besides, if I ever did then the story wasn't that good in the first place.

_**Milan4ever**_ and anyone else that wants to commit an Unforgiveable – you're dismissed. You are blocked for life and if I ever catch you writing a story be sure to expect me to leave a brutally honest review of it.

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><p><strong>Beta Note: <strong>You can criticize my beta-ing, or Buck's writing if you need, but don't criticize other people's opinions. They are sharing those opinions to help Buck's writing and foster the story. Doing anything to make them struggle with feeling secure in doing so, is just plain rude. We are all Potter fans and should be united in that. We are all human being to be honest and doing things that hurt other people is actually theworst and something that I find deplorable. We all need to work on making the world better not worse.

:::

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><p><strong>Chapter 18 – French Candy<strong>

It's not as if Ron hadn't ever sat outside his superior's office awaiting punishment before. Be it the Headmasters office, Professor McGonagall's office when she was his Head of House, the Minister of Magic's office, the Magical Law Enforcement Department Head's office, his Father's workshop, his Mum's kitchen, Hermione's small office… well let's just say this wasn't the first time he's been in trouble. However, this was by far the best waiting room he ever had to wait in. The seats were exquisitely plush and comfortable unlike the hard benches at Hogwarts. The office even came with a welcoming table of fresh flowers and a bowl of French hard candy. The candy tasted so brilliant that after sampling one in his mouth; he quickly grabbed two fists full and shoved them into his robes before anyone noticed. The candy wasn't the only thing delicious; the office came with a drop dead sexy secretary who made him want to be in trouble every day he worked there. It wasn't even really like being in trouble, more like a nice way to wait.

"_Oh my… Merlin_," Ron thought as he watched the seductive French secretary bend over to file a folder in a bottom cabinet.

Usually the secretaries at the UK Ministry were too lazy to even get up from their desk and file paperwork but this one, in a super tight wool skirt and black thigh stockings, seemed to be perfectly fine with physical exertion.

He compulsively offered a warm smile over to her and was rewarded with a seductive and flirty look. Unfortunately, his randy thoughts were rudely interrupted with a magical intercom voice, "Miss Posey, please send Mr.-Weasley in."

No doubt from the way he paused at saying Weasley he was in a bit of trouble.

"Oui Sir," replied Miss Posey, the super sexy secretary of his randy dreams for later that night.

She seductively walked over to him as he stood up and softly whispered in his ear, "Don't worry hiz bark iz worse zhan hiz bite."

Ron smiled and said, "Thank you. Hi, my name is eh… it's uh… Ron. Yeah, I'm Ron!"

She giggled at his response of trying to engage his stupid brain long enough to remember his own bloody name. Her response, however, just made her ten times sexier. It was one of those not-afraid-to-have-fun laughs that he rarely got with Hermione.

"Mr. Weasley!" The intercom impatiently roared before he got a chance to get her first name.

"I'm coming," muttered Ron as he watched Miss Posey tilt her head toward her boss's door.

"C'est La Vie." The secretary offered to him as he walked into the plush office of the French Director of Justice, Monsieur Delacour.

"There," proclaimed a frustrated Mr. Delacour to two businessmen in his office.

Ron said nothing as he stood by the wall while the businessmen watched him before they addressed Mr. Delacour.

"I want to hear him say it."

"Oui, I'm not retracting until he admits it."

Mr. Delacour seemed to have finally grasped at what he wanted the businessmen to do. "Ronald, you will tell these men of the Fourth Estate that you were completely and totally wrong about what you said this morning. That you have no idea what killed Mr. Woerth and you have absolutely no knowledge of the reincarnation of these… these Immortals."

Ron seemed a bit surprised that Mr. Delacour thought he was in charge of him or close enough to him to railroad him into lying. After all, he worked for Kingsley, the British Minister of Magic. He only reported to the Frogs out of professional courtesy. It was a point that he would have to make to set the record straight. The first step was to put more pressure on the Immortals with negative press.

"But Monsieur it was the Immortals, they killed Mr. Woerth this morning outside of Sens. I was there… so do these gentlemen need me to give another press briefing about it?"

Ron played naively stupid in front of everyone. Being labeled a sidekick to everyone in the world did have a few advantages. One of them was you could play stupid and be free of punishment for anything you did.

A now jubilant businessman quickly responded to his offer. "A private interview would be most welcome by my paper."

"**No!** He will not be available for personal interviews. Good day, gentlemen." A red-face with anger Mr. Delacour declared to everyone in his office.

The two businessmen silently nodded to Mr. Delacour and then quickly exited from his office.

Ron sensing a way out of what he sure was a talk down from Mr. Delacour offered his good byes. "Well I'm glad we got that taken care of. I'll be going now…"

"Sit down, Mr. Weasley. We need to set a few rules for you."

A tiny bit of shock registered at being called Mr. Weasley now that the businessmen had left. In their presence, he had been Ronald. Ron reluctantly set down in one of the chairs that one of the businessmen had quickly left from and watched as an irritated Mr. Delacour tapped his peacock quill on his desk in frustration. After a minute of no talking and tapping he finally addressed Ron.

"I do not wish to talk to you about what happen last night in my house… ever. Do you understand?"

Ron must've been a bit red in the face remembering how he ran away yesterday morning after almost getting caught by Mr. Delacour for sleeping with his daughter.

"Gabrielle is an innocent…"

Ron knew that wasn't true.

"… young and impressionable girl. I had hoped that you would've exercise better restraint being that you're … _almost family_."

Ron wisely said nothing. The last thing he needed was for his older brother Bill to find out what he did.

"Clearly you suffer from irrational and impulsive behavior."

This was the bad side of being labeled a sidekick; you had to not hex someone's bits off when they shortchanged you.

"From this moment forward you are no longer allowed to speak with the press. You are to remain at your desk until called upon by me. You are…"

Ron had enough of this. "Listen Monsieur, I got to go check in with my boss, Kingsley Shacklebolt and then probably update Harry while I'm at it too."

Ron could tell from Mr. Delacour's eyebrow twitching, after he said Harry's name, that he wasn't happy about it. In fact, Ron was sure he wasn't.

"Ronald, there's no need for this. Let us handle this matter. This is not Britain's or Mr. Potter's concern." Mr. Delacour said in a lot more soothing tone than he hadn't used since he came in his office.

"_Merlin, he's scared of Harry getting involved._" Ron thought to himself. "_Stupid… bloody git. Not worried about me in the least. Mr. Chosen One, however, is a different story._"

Ron hesitated a bit on what lie he was going to tell Mr. Delacour. The _shove-it-up-your-arse_ argument wouldn't have been helpful or pretty.

"Sir, I can see your point." Ron said then thought the opposite. "_I'm so going to tell them right after I leave here." _

"We barely have enough information on the Immortals. Perhaps I should lead an official investigation as to finding them or maybe we should get Harry to do it. He's a lot better at these things than I am."

He almost felt like throwing up when he said that Harry was better at leading an investigation than he was. Truth be told he was Harry's equal or better in strategy and physical combat. The only thing he was junior to Harry was his fame, money, and his unbeatable wand in Wizard dueling. Problem was he couldn't tell anyone about the wand out of fear it would cost Harry his life.

As Ron expected, Mr. Delacour was completely against the idea. "There will be no investigation. Not by Harry Potter or anyone else."

Ron continued to play the stupid sidekick role by staying in character. "But Monsieur, how will we arrest them if we do not?"

"There will be no arrest! They do not exist!"

"So do you want me to tell the press or Harry that there's not going to be an investigation because you don't think they exist?"

At the way Mr. Delacour was grinding down hard on his teeth, Ron wasn't sure if he would be able to eat anything other than soup tonight.

"No. There will be… I… I will have to consider this matter. Until then, Ronald you are not allowed to talk with the press or anyone else about this matter. Is that clear?"

Ron offered a warm smile to Mr. Delacour before lying to his face, "Yes sir, I will trust you to decide what's best."

:::

* * *

><p>"They're all in on it." Ron stated as a matter of fact.<p>

Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic seemed a bit cautious about Ron's declaration in his office. Harry, on the other hand, was a bit more accustomed to Ministry employees being members of a secret organization trying to kill him and take over the country.

"We're going to need solid proof before I can make any official inquires with the International Confederation," advised Kingsley.

"What about Umbridge?" Harry interjected with a tone that he couldn't care less about the Immortals or France for that matter.

Ron seemed a bit shock at Harry's reaction.

"What about her? Did you not hear what I said about the Immortals killing innocent people all over France? "

Ron watched as Harry refused to back off the subject of Umbridge. "Why don't we tell the press that Umbridge is in league with the Immortals? Even put out a few wanted posters of her on the front page."

Ron knew this was Harry focusing solely on Umbridge and nothing else.

"Because that's a stupid idea, Harry, she'll become a liability to them; they'll kill her for sure."

Harry shrugged indifference at the possibility. "I don't see a problem with it. She either turns herself in or they kill her. Either way is fine by me."

Ron was about to set Harry straight but Kingsley wisely stepped in before he could. "Any unlawful group taking over a Magical government is all our concern. The Immortals will…"

Kingsley never got to finish his statement as Harry angrily busted in, "And where were they when Voldemort was taking over here? Nowhere! They didn't so much as lift a finger to…"

It was Ron's turn to interrupt. "Gerard and a great many others were with us at Hogwarts that day. Charlie led them once the curfew was lifted at Hogsmeade."

Harry said nothing as he sat there grudgingly refusing to acknowledge that some in France and other countries had helped them during the war. Ron wasn't going to let Harry get away with it. They may have shoulder the brunt of the war but they did have help. He remembered the first conversation he had at the Headmistress office about Gerard Mackay.

"Professor Dumbledore said Gerard was at Hogwarts when they needed him most."

Harry's face began to shows signs of acknowledgment and regret after what Ron had just said.

Kingsley diplomatically spoke up, "The Immortals will be our top concern. Umbridge will have to wait."

Harry stood up from his chair to address Kingsley. "Fine, then assign me to work with Ron in France."

Ron watched as Kingsley was about to agree to Harry's request and quickly interjected. "It's better if he stays here and never goes to France."

"What," popped Harry looking outraged?

"They fear you. With you here in England I can continue my work in France. Better the devil you know than the one you don't. The second they see and meet you in France they won't fear either one of us."

To Ron's surprise, Kingsley agreed with his assessment. "Good point. The reputation of the Chosen One can work for us."

"He's going to need help. I should go," argued Harry not wanting to sit on the substitute bench anymore. Not being lead on the Umbridge investigation had been insult enough, but now not being allowed to go to Paris where serious danger was afoot was enough to drive Harry mad.

Kingsley disagreed, "It looks as if Ron already has help there. Plus, I just got an official request from the French Ministry requesting that Ron be immediately reassigned back to us."

Ron rolled his eyes at how fast and far bad news traveled about him.

Kingsley reassuringly nodded at him, "You must be doing something right to get their attention."

No doubt, Ron was beaming from the positive assessment and backing of his boss.

"Of course, I was a bit worried when Mr. Delacour said you slept with his daughter."

Now, Ron wasn't smiling anymore. In fact, he would've paid a month's salary to Kingsley if he hadn't told him that in Harry's presence.

"You slept with little Gabrielle?" Harry jubilantly shouted. "Oh, Bill is going to kill you, Mate. You're dead."

"He's never going to know," growled Ron with a murderous look at a cheeky Harry. "And neither is Hermione."

"Oh sure, Ron… wouldn't dream of it."

:::

* * *

><p>Ron was swiftly trying to make a quick exit out of the British Ministry of Magic before he was caught by his ex-Best Mate. That was before he heard a distant voice that sounded nothing like him.<p>

"Ron!" A familiar voice shouted across the British Ministry of Magic atrium.

Ron glanced over his shoulder to see who was calling for him. To his surprise it was an oddly familiar face, Reginald Cattermole from Maintenance.

"Ron."

Ron quietly waited for Reg to meet up with him by the Ministry exit, "Hey Reg."

"My wife, Mary, wanted me to pass a tip on to you."

Ron had to fight back the urge to roll his eyes as he feared the tip was going to involve a suggestion on whom to date.

"She said that one of her friends spotted Umbridge outside of Paris at a Muggle estate auction."

"What," Ron said in shock.

"Well, uh… she said that one of her friends spotted Dolores Umbridge—, "Reg was nervously trying to repeat what he said to him.

"I got that part Reg, but where? What estate auction... and when?" Ron asked a bit excitedly but in a hush voice so no one could overhear them.

"Two days ago. You'll have to ask her for the exact details. She's waiting for you at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Thanks Reg." Ron swiftly shook Reg's hand and before he could make his escape to a fireplace to use the floo network; he was asked an impromptu question.

"Ron, you didn't stink up Harry's office again? The last time took me half a day to clean out that awful smell."

Ron cheekily smiled at a suspicious Reg as he opened up his Auror robe to reveal what he had on him.

"If Harry asks you about the new broomstick that was in his office, tell him it's not misplaced – it's stolen."

Ron tapped the shiny walnut trim of a brand new Ellerby and Spudmore Thunderwood broomstick in his robe. It was the very same expensive gift bought from his sister to her boyfriend on his birthday. Personally, he couldn't wait to try it out… and then later on, if he bothered to remember, to return it to its proper owner - in one piece… or maybe two.

"He'll be missing that for sure."

Ron wickedly smiled in reply as he closed his Auror robe and then headed off to one of the fireplaces.

"**Oi, Ron don't forget what I told you about messing with my wife!**" Reg shouted a bit too loud for everyone in the Ministry Atrium to hear as he made his escape.

:::

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><p><strong>AN:** I realize there are _or were_ some readers skimming the chapter looking for Hermione, but everyone needs to pay special attention to this part:

"_The last thing he needed was for his older brother Bill to find out what he did._"

This would be the part in my outline/story that explains why Gabrielle was chosen for a one off. Can we say, "**Conflict**?**"** Can we say, "Method to my madness?"

**Please Review!**


	19. Chapter 19: Atomic Thinker

**Author's Rant:** I'm reminded of a memorable quote from perhaps one of the best Hollywood Western movies of all time, _**The Man who Shot Liberty Valance**_ (1962).

"_This is the West, sir. When the legend becomes fact, print the legend._"

I often hear Hermione worshippers telling me, "This is Ron / Hermione fanfiction, sir." The facts and cannon of both characters have been replaced by this female made up legend. Naturally, the Hermione worshipers hold Hermione in high regard and compulsively Ron in a very un-characteristic view. The history behind all of this is a few years ago there were several male authors, like myself, that kept the fanfiction tilted evenly… as much as we could. Over time as there are less and less male authors, the facts have been blown away like tumbleweed by the sheer numbers of female authors. Ron is single and hopeless, while Hermione is all beautiful and successful. Move forward to present day, and worshipers _expect_ stories to stay within legend and show female views of Ron's feelings toward love and sex, then oh… let's call it an extraterrestrial view called… umm… **Male**. Nevermind, the inescapable fact that woman are NOT experts on what makes a Man a man or a male view of emotions as they lack certain biological components. It would be like me saying I know exactly what Hermione or Vera Miles is thinking and feeling. Honestly, if John Wayne was alive and kicking today – I believe some women would have the audacity to refer to him as a "boy" because he carried a certain male swagger that they would view as comical. They would even go so far as to call Tom Doniphon pathetic and weak for honorably stepping aside for some pathetic Pilgrim named Jimmy Stewart to steal his girl. Only at the end does John Wayne finally get "rewarded" with his boots stolen and a crappy arse cactus flower on his pine box coffin from the woman he loved his entire life.

_Sorry… got off topic._

Anyway the male view of a male's thought and actions are clearly against legend. Better they be a female view of what a male character like Ron is feeling and thinking because that's the legend and you only print the legend.

:::

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><p><strong>Beta Note: <strong>Variety is the spice of life. Not every story you read is going to be exactly what you expect or think you want. It is quite the boon that we are reading a fic written by a male author, that just doesn't happen often. Let's be real, his understanding of the male mind is far and above that of the average female author. So, why not give him a little leeway when it comes to how he chooses to deal with the plot and just enjoy the ride?

:::

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><p><strong>Chapter 19 – Atomic Thinker<strong>

Ron's mind was racing as he entered the Leaky Cauldron and was immediately received with a warm smile from Hannah Abbott, or as he should start calling her from now on, Mrs. Hannah Longbottom. After acknowledging her, he watched as Hannah tilted her head and discreetly pointed toward a booth in the back for him to go too. He swiftly made his way toward the booth to find Mary Cattermole already sitting there busily applying lipstick and makeup on her face with a magical brush.

"Mary," Ron greeted her as he took the booth seat across from her.

Immediately, she blushed and giggled as she got up from her side of the booth and raced over to where he was sitting. She hugged his head to her perfumed bosom and then tried to kiss him. All the while he was thinking that Reg wouldn't approve of this at all.

"Mary… Mary, Reg told me not too." Ron warned as he tried to hold off Mary from kissing him.

"Hmph," Mary pouted, then reluctantly returned to her seat. "He can be so - jealous."

Ron smiled a bit as he chuckled, "Husbands can be that way. Now Reg told me that you had a tip on where Umbridge is."

Mary wasn't really listening to him as she was still pouting about not being able to kiss him again. Her infatuation with him was simultaneously helpful and exasperating. Ron could not catch a break with the women in his life lately.

"Mary. I need to know your tip."

"You husbands are all the same. Mary, what's for dinner? Mary, where are my work clothes? Mary, did you clean them? You lot never appreciate us."

Ron watched as Mary belligerently crossed her arms and pouted in frustration. He wasn't sure if Reg would approve, but if it helped him get the information that he needed, then he would have to be the "husband" that show her some needed praise.

"I think you look very nice today." Ron noticed that the grey in Mary's hair had been dyed into a darker black. Her clothes was also a bit more contemporary than the usual grey dress and silver blouse that he last seen her wearing. Now she was wearing a more provocative crimson ginger blouse with a low v cut. Her long and tight black dress completed the ensemble of an older woman trying to look a great deal younger than she was. He didn't think Mary was really serious with all of this, but he could tell she certainly enjoyed the notion of flirting with a younger man.

Ron followed up with another compliment, "Was that an Irish perfume I smelled? It was very er… fragrant."

Naturally, he was rubbish when it came to flattery toward a woman, but Mary did seem to be a bit more receptive to him.

"Do you like it? It's Irish goat milk soap. I prefer it over those expensive little bottles of French perfume that you get at the store."

"I can tell you it smells a whole lot better than those French women wearing all that rubbish perfumes." Ron lied, in order to sweet talk her into giving him the info he wanted.

"Have you met any other women over there?" Mary inquired with guileful gossip on her mind. "I've heard that Granger isn't so happy now-a-days what with you on the continent and all."

Ron gulped in fear of Mary mentioning Hermione as if she hit a raw nerve. Frankly, he didn't want to know anything about her, but he couldn't stop himself. He had to ask and it made him hate himself for doing so.

"I… I met a girl or two, nothing serious. What about Hermione? Did she break up with Derrick? I mean, are they… I ah, it's none of my concern really. But… I… I still wish her the best."

"Naturally," agreed a smiling Mary watching him squirm with what he really wanted to say and ask.

"So… is she still seeing him? Is she happy?" Ron asked a knowing Mary while leaning forward to hear her answer.

"Let's just say Granger isn't as happy as she thought she would be."

Ron didn't get a chance to follow up with what Mary was telling him as Reg made an unscheduled appearance.

"Mary, why are you wearing that… and what happened to your hair?"

Mary's smile was instantly replaced with an irritated frown as she focused on her husband forcing her to move over in the booth so he could join them.

"You're supposed to be at work. And there's nothing wrong with what I'm wearing. Hmph, my other _husband_ appreciates it."

Ron rolled his eyes while Reg scowled a bit at him in jealousy.

"I'm your husband, not Ronald. I'm the one who gave you our children. Remember them?" Reg proclaimed to Mary who seemed to be secretly enjoying Reg being jealous.

"Our children you say, and then you won't mind cooking breakfast for them while I'm the one that sleeps in." Mary acidly pointed out to a frustrated Reg.

"Merlin," griped Ron realizing that it wasn't just Hermione and him that constantly argued.

"Oh if that's the case then you wouldn't mind to be the one that-"

"**Enough**," barked Ron at the end of his patience with the both of them. "I want to know about Umbridge… and the rest you two can settle at home."

"Ron?"

"Bugger." Ron protested, before he even looked over his shoulder to find Harry making a bee line toward his booth. Obviously, he had been trailing Reg to their meeting.

Ron didn't even argue with Harry that he shouldn't be there and that this was his investigation. He knew it would be a waste of breath. He simply and quietly moved over in the booth to allow Harry to join them. When Harry sat down looking rather smug with himself at finding them, only then did Ron give him a nasty, "_You're a complete tosser,_" look.

Mary, no longer arguing with Reg, took the new arrival to her table rather well. "Hello Mr. Potter. I don't suppose you would remember me."

Harry immediately showed off his signature boyish Chosen One smile that made Ron want to hurl his breakfast in Harry's lap. "I certainly do know you, Mrs. Cattermole. You're Reg's wife."

"And mine," Ron sounded off to the confusion of Harry, annoyance of Reg, and pure delight of Mary.

"What?" Harry asked him, looking bewildered.

"Don't ask… now, Mary, what about the tip on Umbridge?" Ron pleaded to know before he got interrupted again with a new arrival. After all, it would be a problem now - they didn't have any more open seats in the booth.

All eyes were on Mary, whom not only seemed to be aware of it, but was relishing the attention.

"You remember Ella? Well she was traveling with her older sister Samantha on a Muggle wine tasting tour through France." Mary paused to think of something before saying, "You know, Reg, we should take one of those."

Ron was about to snap at Mary for getting off topic, but it was Harry who reacted first.

"Mrs. Cattermole, can we get to the part where they spot Dolores Umbridge please."

"Oh, sorry…Ella and Samantha quite literally came across this Muggle Estate Auction outside of Courcoue. They said the furniture was rather hideous and poorly made but the silverware looked rather promising."

"Mary, they don't want to know about the silverware." Reg implored his wife.

"Shut it," barked Mary who then playfully slapped Reg on his thigh. "I was saying - gentlemen and… husbands that this was a Muggle estate auction where you have…"

Harry interrupted by following up on the location of the auction, "Mrs. Cattermole, are you sure about the location. Courcoue?"

Harry looked questionably over to Ron when he said the name of the village. Which was stupid, Ron had only been in France less than a few days. He had no more of a clue where it was than he did. Not to mention how to spell or say the bloody name.

"Yes. Ella and Samantha were rather certain of it... Courcoue, France."

"What was she doing there? At a Muggle estate auction," inquired Ron a bit surprised to hear of Umbridge being around Muggles?

"Samantha said she made a successful bid on some of the vineyards there." Mary said.

Harry excitedly asked, "Do you suppose there's a house on that property? Like she's… maybe buying a place to hide in?"

Mary crunched up her face as if to force the answer out of her head. Unfortunately, her face only seemed to make her older and more confused. Ron mercifully saved Mary from causing permanent facial paralysis.

"That will be easy enough to find out. I can go to the auction company and check their records. Even if Umbridge placed a Fidelius Charm on a house; she would've most likely forgotten to perform an Unplottable Charm on it as well."

"Let's hope so," Harry agreed. "Still, Ron, it's a bad idea to go alone."

Ron started to push Harry out of the booth to leave then coldly replied, "I am alone. You've already helped with that."

"Ron, I didn't-"

"Save it. I don't care anymore. It's done."

"Ron, please be careful." Mary worriedly offered, as Reg kept silent beside her.

Ron felt a wave of gratitude once more toward Mary Cattermole and braved a simple gesture in return. He leaned down and across Reg, sitting quietly in his seat, to kiss Mary on the cheek.

"We're lucky men, Reg."

:::

* * *

><p>Keeping his promise to Professor Dumbledore, he secretly made his way to the Science Museum at South Kensington in London. Also keeping with his promise of secrecy, he double-back and changed directions frequently to make sure he wasn't being followed by a nosey Harry Potter. He was certain that if Harry had been following him, he wouldn't have stood idly by under his invisibility cloak while Ron was riding his new Thunderwood broomstick across the river Thames. Ron even scratched the shiny walnut trim on the broomstick a few times while ducking in the tree tops to stay out of the view of passerby Muggles.<p>

"_That would've brought out Harry for sure_," Ron surmised as he magically shrunk the broomstick into his Auror robe and then transfigured his robe into a London trench coat. "_Not that he should be mad with me… scratches add character._"

Ron dished out a few notes of the color paper that the Muggles like so much at the front gate and made his way inside to the lobby. He looked around the museum and saw that there were numerous Muggle exhibits. Some looked like stuff he seen in Muggle London and other stuff looked … well weird and pointless. However, he did notice a small group of Muggles and their children all clustered around a forty year old, skinny, glasses wearing, black hair girl. Clearly, Hermione looked like an amateur bookworm compared to this girl's looks. Be it her beige dress, chick glasses and her intellectual demeanor it screamed super bookworm with a low wage job.

"The tour will be starting in five minutes."

Ron smiled to the bookworm in the hopes that he could charm his way into the group.

"It's free, Ginger, if that's what you're after." The bookworm joked, as she waved for him to join them.

Ron ignored the stereotype comment about his hair color and properly introduced himself, "My name is Ron Weasley."

The woman rudely retorted, "That's nice, Ginger. Now which floor would you like to start on?"

"Second," answered Ron as he remembered what Professor Dumbledore had suggested for him to visit. He was really beginning to dislike her attitude.

"Second it is. Let's go people, you heard Ginger. We have to make considerations for the ones with _special_ needs."

:::

* * *

><p>"All matter-"<p>

"Excuse me, ahh-"

"Yes, Ginger."

"What's matter?" Ron rather sheepishly asked the bookworm on the second floor of the Science museum.

"I see. You're a fine product of Tony Blair's education no doubt," the bookworm surmised.

Ron had a feeling that she was making fun of him as the other Muggles in the tour were laughing and looking back at him.

"Matter is anything that occupies space, possesses mass, or offers resistance… generally speaking anything at all that has mass and volume except the empty space within a Labor's leadership head."

The tour group laughed a bit louder this time even though Ron felt the quip was at someone else's expense.

"_Offers resistance… hmm, well that could be described as magic._" Ron thought, as the bookworm continued.

"We all know, or should know before A-levels exams, Matter is made up of atoms and molecules."

Ron not afraid of being laughed at again, as this was important or that was what Professor Dumbledore said was important, interrupted her yet again.

"What's an atom?"

The bookworm responded by reaching up to rub the bridge of her nose before saying, "It's going to be one of those tours. Yes, Ginger, an atom is a basic unit of the before mentioned matter that is made up of subatomic particles. Those particles are made up of protons and neutrons forming a dense central nucleus core surrounded by a cloud of orbiting electrons."

Ron was about to ask her what the bloody hell was a proton, electron, and that other thing, but she seemed to sense his question and answered before he asked.

"Over here you'll see an exhibit of a Beryllium atom and the metal in a solid physical form."

Ron stared at a weird color marble exhibit and then over to a small stand, holding a shiny silver metal cube. To say he was still clueless about what the Merlin he was looking at - was an understatement.

"Note the four white balls and four blue balls that form a large ball in the center." The bookworm pointed at the color marble exhibit. "They are the protons and neutrons that form the nucleus of an atom. Now note the four small red balls circling the nucleus, those are electrons. They carry a negative charge as opposed to the positive charge of the protons in the-"

"How do we know this is real," questioned Ron because he never seen one in his life.

The bookworm's reaction rather surprised him as she wasn't bothered with his question; in fact, she seemed happy that he asked.

"Do you see that copper pole there?" She pointed at a weird copper pole from the floor to the ceiling a few meters away from the group that was in a carpeted circle area marked, "Do not touch".

Ron cautiously confirmed her question. "Yes."

"That pole carries electrons. Why don't you go ahead and touch it to see if it's real?"

Ron sensing a trick hesitated, "It says don't touch."

The bookworm smiled even more as she offered, "that's for visitors who don't have a tour guide. Go ahead, Ginger, don't be afraid."

Ron didn't know what she was on about, but he wasn't about to let a Muggle girl question his bravery. After all how dangerous could it be to touch a copper pole that wasn't magical.

He walked over to the pole and with his right palm laid it flatly on the copper pole.

"Ow!" Ron shouted as he jerked his hand back.

It was like the pole had a magical hex on it to shock anyone that touched it.

The tour group roared with laughter at his expense as the irritating bookworm told him, "That shock you feel would be static electricity generated by you walking over the carpet to the pole to form a weak charge of electricity. Moving electrons are what make up electricity."

Ron started shaking his hand as he retorted, "I thought it was those stupid batteries that form eleck-tricity."

"You can generate electricity in many ways. At the core of it, are electrons flowing in a current." The bookworm answered, before turning her attention back to the exhibit and the rest of the tour group.

"_Current? That's what Professor Dumbledore said about the stream._" Ron thought back to what he remembered he was told about Nature having a choice. "_Maybe he wasn't talking about a stream at all?_"

"**Excuse me, Ma'am… miss?**" Ron excitedly asked, as he rushed back over to the tour group.

The bookworm exhaled before she acknowledged him, "Yes, Ginger?"

"Do these eleck-tricity have a choice to flow this way or that way?"

She seemed to find his question a bit confusing, but politely she answered him. "No, electrons can only flow from a positive to a negative direction. They don't have a choice."

Ron felt a bit defeated but he followed up with anything that might be an exception.

"Can you think of anything that would make an Eleck-tron flow an opposite direction per say?"

The bookworm seemed to think rather hard about it before she answered, "There is a whole field of study dealing with Dynamical correlation and London dispersion-"

"**London dispersion?**" Ron said out loud, then he excitedly grabbed both of her arms to look straight at her. He remembered reading about those very same words in Professor Dumbledore's schoolbook several times. He thought it was a place in London.

"Calm down, Ginger, I already have a boyfriend." The girl said, as she tried to escape from his strong grip.

"Tell me. What's a London dispersion? What does it have to do with these Eleck-trons?"

"You can buy a book about it at the gift store. Now let go!" The bookworm demanded of him no longer finding him funny.

He hadn't even realized he was holding her arms and immediately apologized after releasing her. "Sorry. I didn't… just excited. You know, great tour and all."

She wasn't pleased, to say the least, and Ron had to pull out his wand and erase everyone's memory. Hopefully, he didn't erase too much. He wasn't Hermione skillful when it came to memory modifications.

After he left the gift shop with all the books he could find on Eleck-tricity, Atoms, and London dispersion. He made his way outside and found all the Muggles in his tour group wandering around in the parking deck.

"George, where did we park our car? I don't even remember how we got here."

"I can't remember either."

"Martha, what does our car look like again?"

He thought it best if he walked away and left the Muggles to sort it all out for themselves.

:::

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><p><strong>AN:** I made this dry chapter as readable as I can for a Science lesson.

Oh almost forgot, (_yes no Hermione until chapter 21, I'm running behind on my Outline_), but next chapter will have the wonderful and funny Luna Lovegood in it. **Please review**.


	20. Chapter 20: Luna Eclipse

**Author's Rant** (_because I don't know how to shut up_):

"Where's Hermione, when are we going to see Hermione, why haven't we seen Hermione… blagh, blagh, blagh, no romance, blagh, blagh."

This just in from the Daily Prophet:

_Famed know-it-all Hermione Granger died today when a giant library case of books fell on top of her. At present, there has been no word from her family if they plan to pull her dead body out of the rubble of books or simply leave her there to rest. _

That's right… I'm crazy enough to do it and you know it. I use to have a pretty nurse who gave me all kinds of color pills… blue, white… even a green one. Don't remember what the green one did or even how I made it back home that night. (True story) Well I think it was true… _never trust an Irishman who takes you bar hopping_. Anyway the nurse has moved on… _I wish she stop visiting me through the rubber room door glass and just leave for good_, but I'm still here. Alone. Bored. Drooling a little. Just pining away till football season.

I miss the nurse… or is it the pills? Maybe the nurse is **the Pill**. That sounds right.

You know, I think Buck Nuts sounds better than BuckNC… hmm. All things considered, this story isn't as bad or "_decent enough story line_" as some have said. It's been really tough to write a multi-chapter mystery spy novel. Plus, I have to admit that it's taken me several chapters to remember how to write again. Nice to know I haven't lost it … unlike the nurse. Where did she go again?

You think maybe I should reach out and post this story on **Simply Undeniable** and **Quidditch Pitch**?

Nah, now that would be crazy and stupid.

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><p><strong>Beta Note: <strong>I think everyone is really complaining about the wrong thing. I want to know where Neville is. He has done much more to advance the plot than Hermione at this point. Not to mention the poor dear is just quite adorable. I could respect someone who wants to know where Neville is, but complaining about Hermione right now is silly. What would she even do? It's not like Ron can talk to her about the magic stuff he is trying to figure out. Let's not be ridiculous.

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><p><strong>Chapter 20: Luna Eclipse<strong>

Merlin, did he hate homework. Don't get him wrong, it was exciting and wonderful to finally see what Professor Dumbledore was really talking about with all these Muggle science books. Nonetheless, it was the mundane cross-checking, reference lookups, researching, and then more researching something else that made him want to beg and plead for Hermione to do the work for him. Oh if only he could.

"_She just yell at me again that I was lazy or I was pathetic_." Ron griped to himself as he thought of his ex-girlfriend.

His frustration with homework was matching his sour mood after reading a Daily Prophet gossip article of Hermione and Derrick Braunstein looking at new flats together. The so-called happy power couple seemed to be looking at the expensive estates around Oxford and Godrics Hollow. Places that could be well described as the most expensive magical residency in Britain.

"_I hope they move in right beside the Malfoys_." Ron devilishly wished at the implied friction between neighbors. "_Then she can_ _join one of those super-rich snobby neighborhood associations with them… I can see it now."_

"_Excuse me, Mrs. Malfoy. … Yes, hi I'm Hermione Granger Braunstein. Why yes, I am the little girl you tortured in your dining room during the war. Small world isn't it? Anyway, as you may know I sit on the neighborhood association committee and it's my duty to inform you that it's illegal to be such evil gits in our neighborhood. Plus, you're not legally zoned to house non-family members or dark lords in the basement._"

"Excuse me Love, would you like another cup of coffee or another scoop perhaps?" A waitress asked him.

Ron broke away from his cutting thoughts to realize the waitress at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour in Diagon Alley was asking him a question.

"What?"

"I said Love, would you like another cup."

Ron now realized what she had asked of him and lifted his empty coffee cup for her to pour him more. She obliged and then with a rather pleasant smile asked, "Is there anything else I can get for you? Anything at all?"

When she had asked Ron if there was "Anything at all," she had also leaned forward to reveal her rather nice and open cleavage for him to gaze at. Or that's what he thought she did… he wasn't really paying much attention to her. Ron didn't have much attention for anything else right now, especially pretty women not named Hermione.

"_She probably is going to have one of those new custom built libraries built in her new stupid mansion. I hope a huge bookshelf full of heavy books falls right down on top of her. It would serve her right. Nah… she probably just read her way out of it._"

"Love?"

"What… oh, I'm good. I'll call you if I need more."

The waitress made a bit of a growl of frustration as she left his table.

"_I should get George to build an exploding house warming gift. Level a two story mansion to nothing but rubble._" Ron murderously thought to himself.

Ron finally reflected on what he was thinking and feeling.

"_Bugger… I'm going all mental again. Face it Weasley, she's better off without you._"

He grudgingly pushed down his jealousy and frustration as he forced himself to refocus solely on his studying.

"_London dispersion is a type of force acting between atoms and molecules. London force is a weak intermolecular force arising from quantum… what the Merlin is quantum? I'll look it up later. From a quaint ton, whatever … induced instantaneous polarization in molecules. Hmm… Muggles might think it's instantaneous if it was magic._"

Ron scribbled a note next to that line to figure out what "quanta dung," or whatever that word was and then read on.

"_London forces are exhibited by nonpolar molecules because of the correlated movements of the electrons… That last part is Dumbledore's stream. …in interacting molecules. Because the electrons from different molecules start "fleeing" and avoiding each other… Wait, then they don't always travel a certain way. That annoying tour guide was wrong. Those eleck-trons are running away from one another. Then that means that Dumbledore was right, they do have a choice._"

Ron was a bit amazed with himself at what he just learned. He continued to read on.

"_London forces are present between all chemical groups and usually represent the main part of the total interaction force in condensed matter._"

"Merlin that would mean it's everywhere," Ron said aloud in sheer amazement.

"Do you mean Wrackspurts?" A distant and dreamy voice said to him.

Immediately, Ron took his nose out of the Muggle science book to see a smiling and quirky beautiful woman walking straight toward his booth.

"Luna!" Ron celebrated as he jumped up from the booth and gave one of his best friends a welcome home hug. "Are you back from Siberia already?"

Luna was now a Wizarding Naturalist or as she like to call it a Magizoologist. The name seemed as loony as Luna, but in her own endearing way it fit. Another surprising fact about Luna was that no matter what far off land Ron and Harry found themselves at during a mission; they would surprisingly bump into Luna looking for some weird magical unknown creature. It was sheer lunacy at how often they meet up with her while on a mission. Be it the dense jungles of Central America, the shifting sand dunes of Africa, or even the highest peaks of the Himalayas – there was Luna.

"No, that was last week when I discovered a new species of Blibbering Humdinger. I think I'm going to call them Rolf or if would you like - I can call them Ron."

Ron had no idea what the Merlin was a Blibbering Humdinger or a Rolf, but he was sure he didn't want some strange smelly ugly looking creature to be his namesake. It probably looked like a Blast-Ended Skrewts for all he knew.

"Wow… ah… no, Rolf sounds good. Yeah go with Rolf." Ron hesitantly said in the hopes that he didn't offend one of his best friends.

Luna as gracious and distant as ever took no offense and politely took a seat in the booth with him. Ron once again had to hold back a laugh at how insane yet brilliant Luna could be. He also noticed for maybe the first time in his life, just how beautiful she was. She was wearing her favorite Dirigible plum earrings and a big yellow sunflower in her hair that matched the color of her yellow dress.

"_Wow, I guess… I never noticed her._" Ron thought to himself on how beautiful Luna was.

"I'm sorry to hear that Hermione and you broke up. I hope you will still be my friend." Luna rather dreamily said to him with a distant facial expression that she carried so often.

"Why would I lose you as my friend?" A bit confused, Ron asked her what she was trying to tell him.

"I understand that when couples break up, it's customary for the woman to keep all the friends and for the man to be ridiculed." Luna stated a bit reluctantly. Her facial expression was no longer distant but more a bit fearful at losing a friend.

Ron shook his head and even though Luna wasn't too far off the mark in his opinion on how breakups normally go; he wasn't about to lose Luna as a friend. With remarks as perfect and perceptive as the one she just made, it would definitely be his loss.

"That may be, but you're still my friend. We've been through a lot and I don't care what other women are telling you to do. You've always had the courage to do your own thing and make up your own mind."

Luna warmly smiled in relief and then uncharacteristically she reached her hand across the table to lay it on his. In the process, she bumped one of the Muggle science books hiding Professor Dumbledore's Transfiguration school book underneath.

Ron stood witness to Luna's face changing from unabashed happiness, to curiosity, to recognition and then finally to sheer horror. She quickly snapped back her hand from Ron and looked as if she was going to burst into tears at any given second.

"What's wrong Luna? Did I say something?"

"That book! You have his book! Professor Dumbledore."

Ron felt his face go red with the dilemma that Luna was putting him in. On one hand she knew exactly what the book was and whom it was from. On the other hand, he swore never to tell anyone about it. That promise was going to force him to lie to her and he knew he wasn't going to enjoy it.

"No, no… it's a gift for Bill and Fleur to give too little Victoire." Ron lied rather convincingly. He was surprised and a bit ashamed at how good he was at telling a lie.

With a swift flick of her wand, before Ron could react, Luna summoned the book to her with non-verbal magic.

"Luna – **NO!**"

Immediately, she opened it and burst into tears. Ron felt that she must've recognized Albus Dumbledore's notes written throughout the book. How he had no idea, but she wasn't going to be fooled with another lie. Instead, he got up and walked around the table to stand beside Luna and then slowly grabbed the book out of her shaking hands. He magically placed it into his Auror robes out of her sight. He then reached out and comforted a bawling and distraught Luna.

"I've never seen you like this, Luna."

Luna continued to cry into his chest and he stood there holding her, caring for her, until she could speak again. It took well over ten minutes before Luna could gather the strength to stop crying. Ron said nothing as he rubbed her back and let her drench his shirt with tears. He really didn't know what else to do, but since Hermione always seemed to like it when he did just that; he would do the same for Luna.

"I… I… Ron…"

"Yes Luna?" Ron asked as he reached for a napkin to give to Luna.

"Please… don't try…"

Another round of crying started and Ron had no idea what he wasn't supposed to be trying. After about another two minutes of crying, Luna seemed to be strong enough for him to ask what she meant.

"Luna, what do you want me not to try?"

Ron was looking down at her and he realized he never knew just how grey her eyes were. It was a pane of sorrow that made him realize just how lonely and sad she was.

"Learn…learning how to use Muggle magic. My mother-"

Ron reacted to her mentioning her mother. "Luna, your mother? I don't understand."

Luna gulped a breath of air before she spoke. "She used Professor Dumbledore's book. It… it's what killed her. She wanted to make magic move in different directions. It worked on several spells… but then. The Killing curse… she was trying to make it go in the opposite direction. She thought it would stop Voldemort." After a small pause she finished, "I'm the one that returned the school book back to Dumbledore after my mother's funeral."

Realization swept over Ron as he remembered the story of how Luna's mother had died. She was an extraordinary powerful witch that had been experimenting with spells.

"_Merlin, she was trying to use Dumbledore's school book…" _Ron finally understood what Headmistress McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore were talking about. "_That's what they were talking about when they said…_"

"_The last person to hold this school book killed herself in a terrific accident_."

Ron was horrified to think that he was holding the thing that had driven Luna's mother to her death. McGonagall and Dumbledore had warned him, but it hadn't felt this real before.

He was griped with fear and understanding that some things aren't meant to be known, to be tested, to be pushed beyond magical limits. Great men, like Dumbledore have dared but with dire consequences, his sister for one. Then there were the evil men like Voldemort who had also dared to break the limits. It was his obsession for power that led him to push the very limits of magic and mortality. That obsession left nothing but a wake of death and destruction in his reckless path.

Ron knew what he had to do.

"Thank you Luna. I'm going to return the school book tonight."

Luna briefly smiled and kissed him on the cheek before she hastily left him there standing in appreciation and understanding of his friend's advice and bravery.

"She should've been a Gryffindor." Ron remarked aloud, as he touched his cheek.

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><p>"Take it and burn it," Ron demanded as he slammed Professor Dumbledore's fifth year Transfiguration school book on Headmistress McGonagall's desk.<p>

McGonagall didn't seem surprised by his outburst and remarked as such. "We can't. It has an indestructible charm on it."

Exasperated Ron said, "Then bury it in the Forbidden Forest. Anywhere just as long as no one ever uses it."

"I take it you weren't able to solve how it works." McGonagall arrogantly remarked.

Ron's anger must've shown at once again being underestimated, even though he didn't answer her.

His reaction drew her in to reservation about what she thought. After a few seconds of watching him she changed her tone. "I know that look Mr. Weasley. You know something."

Ron spat, "I know that Luna's mother was the last one to use this book. I know that you don't think I'm capable of learning how to figure out what he's talking about, but I don't care. I'm not going to end up dead or like Professor Dumbledore with his sister."

With that Professor Dumbledore's portrait hanging on a nearby wall with the other Headmasters spoke up.

"Ronald my boy, did you go to the place I suggested?"

"Yes sir, and I know what you really meant by the stream. It's the current of eleck-trons. Why didn't you just tell me that in the beginning?"

Professor Dumbledore's eyes started twinkling as he stood up in his portrait and solemnly left.

"Albus? Albus… he does this whenever you need him to answer questions." McGonagall declared in frustration as she looked at the empty portrait then over to Ron.

"I'm returning back to Paris," Ron stated to the Headmistress as he was about to make his leave.

"Mr. Weasley, a second."

"Yes ma'am."

"I received a report that there has been another killing this afternoon. A publisher you met this morning I understand."

Ron remembered the two Publishers in Monsieur Delacour's office. If he was to make a guess on which one was dead, then he figure it was the one wanting a private interview.

"The Immortals don't waste any time."

"Yes, sadly they are quite efficient with killing." McGonagall professed in frustration. "I need you to be careful… more careful than you have been Ronald."

Ron felt a bit more comfortable with McGonagall calling him by his first name.

Impulsively, he spoke his mind. "I will be. I got your boyfriend watching my back."

McGonagall facial expression instantly turned to anger as she shouted, "Gerard is not my boyfriend. He's an insensitive, reckless, thoughtless – rogue."

Ron didn't back down, even though he realized he shouldn't had said what he said.

"Who loves you. Why do women like you and Hermione never appreciate that fact?"

"It's Hermione and you, Mr. Weasley." McGonagall corrected his grammar in Hermione-esque style. "My personal affair is none of your business and as for Hermione Granger and yourself; I suggest you learn to move on."

Ron never one for backing down from an argument unwisely spoke his mind. "Like you have. It must be easy for you … and Hermione to pretend how useless we were. Nothing like upgrading to a better job and boyfriend to help you with that illusion… except, it was only an empty Headmistress tower for you. Not much of a dating scene I take it."

"Get out!"

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><p><strong>AN:** _I am so sorry this took so long to write. You wouldn't believe this - I had writer's block. I couldn't write about Luna! I love Luna, she's funny, she's brave, she's… aggghh!_

_Next chapter: A Beater's truth to science, a wizards duel with Harry, and yes… the return of Hermione. __**That's if you Review!**_


	21. Chapter 21: Unbeatable

**Beta's Note: **Oh, girl, this chapter is chock full of some nice little surprises. I hope you are ready for what is waiting for you. See you on the other side!

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><p><strong>Chapter 21 - Unbeatable<strong>

"_As for Hermione Granger and yourself; I suggest you learn to move on_." Headmistress McGonagall's voice and suggestion rolled in his thoughts like a thunderstorm.

"Evil bint," growled Ron as he left the Headmistress's office.

Normally, Ron felt a great bit of reverence for his former Head of House; right now however, he felt nothing but loathing. The students and even the ghostly Bloody Baron took noticed of his ire as they gave him a wide berth on the stairs. He didn't even realize where his body was taking him as his mind was more occupied with his raw anger and injured pride than the quickest way out of Hogwarts.

"I suggest you learn to move ooonnn," sniped Ron, as he accidentally bumped into an elderly witch at a turn in the hallway.

"**Oh my… Merlin!**" The silver hair witch gasped after Ron had knocked her to the marble floor.

"Sorry Ma'am, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going," Ron remorsefully apologized then gingerly assisted the elderly witch up off the floor.

When he stood her up and step back to take a full look of her he immediately recognized her as a member of the Wizarding Examination Authority. In fact, she had been his O.W.L. examiner in Transfiguration when he was at Hogwarts. He also remembered her as being ancient even back then. Her face had more lines than a detention board. If she wasn't hitting at least a 150 years old, then he was the one in need of glasses.

"**Oh my… you need to pay more attention to where you're going young man!**" The elderly witch yelled a bit while she squint her eyes to see him better.

"I'm sorry…"

"**WHAT?**"

"**I said I'm SORRY!**" Ron yelled to her as she was obviously having a hard time hearing as well.

"**You should be! Ever since Dumbledore left**…"

"He's dead, Ma'am." Ron corrected her, even though he himself was wondering why he was even bothering to correct her.

"**Who****'s**** dead?**" The elderly silver hair witch roared back in reply.

Ron rolled his eyes before he attempted to be polite with her again. "**I SAID DUMBLEDORE IS DEAD!**"

The old witch grew indignant over his answer and told him as much. "**I know he's dead… and there's no need to yell! What's your name?**"

Ron exhaled in frustration as Professor Sprout came dashing over to them to sort out what was making some much noise in the hallway.

"Madam Professor Marchbanks are you alright?"

"**No this blithering idiot keeps going off about Albus Dumbledore being dead!**"

Ron rolled his eyes in frustration before he retorted. "No Madam. You said that Professor Dumbledore left Hogwarts and I was correcting you."

This only confused the elderly woman even more, "**What about Dumbledore?**"

Professor Sprout must've sized up the situation rather correctly as she offered a helpful suggestion.

"Mr. Weasley, perhaps you can assist Professor Marchbanks to Madam Pomfrey… for a spot of tea." Professor Sprout tactfully suggested tea instead of saying outright – "_take the old battleaxe to the Hospital Wing_."

"**WHAT? You have to pee?**"

"**No dear, TEA! Mr. WEASLEY IS GOING TO TAKE YOU TO GET SOME TEA!**" Professor Sprout shouted for Marchbanks to hear her.

"**Tea would be lovely, will Albus be there?**"

"**I'll see that he stops by!**" Professor Sprout answered and tilted her head for him to escort her to the Hospital wing.

Halfway to the Hospital Wing, Professor Marchbanks felt the need to be chatty about her tea date. "**It will be good to see Albus! You know, I graded Albus Dumbledore's NEWTs' when he was a student like yourself Mr. Diesel! He did things with a wand that I've never seen before!**"

He was a bit wiser about trying to correct her and said completely nothing about being called a Diesel.

"**I saw him turn a stone into fire, and then changed it into a brick of gold like it was child's play! He took a glass of water from my table and had it dance around the room like it was alive! Its dancing partner was a flame of fire from one of the torch lights! They danced the Waltz… or was it the Viennese? I'll have to ask Albus to be certain!**"

"**You do that!**" Ron calmly suggested.

It started making Ron think of what Professor Dumbledore was really doing. He had used the combination of Muggle science and Magic to pass his NEWTs. The question was could he do it? Should he try to do it? He didn't want to end up like Luna's mum by trying to bounce back the Killing curse, but moving water about and creating gold from stones seemed a bit more reasonable and safe.

"_Professor Dumbledore did say he knew I wouldn't abuse or test the limits of the powers like Luna's mum or even Hermione would. It wouldn't hurt to know a few tricks to use if I'm going up against the Immortals_." Ron thought to himself as he assisted Professor Marchbanks to the Hospital Wing.

"**Albus?**" Professor Marchbanks shouted at the door of the Hospital Wing immediately gaining the attention of Madam Poppy Pomfrey otherwise busy with a few ailing students. "**I hope we aren't late for tea?**"

"Madam Pomfrey, a table for two. Professor Marchbanks and Professor Dumbledore." Ron said rather cheekily as he walked Professor Marchbanks into the Hospital Wing then closed the door behind her locking her inside.

"Mental she is." Ron griped as he made his way out of Hogwarts.

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><p>Ron needed answers. Normally he would go straight to Hermione who point him in the right direction but nowadays that direction pointed straight off a cliff. Adding to that was Professor Dumbledore's portrait was nowhere to be found and he couldn't speak to anyone else about whether he should or shouldn't try to use Dumbledore's Muggle magic. That's when the idea occurred to him. He had to go straight to the source for a second opinion.<p>

That lead him to where he was currently standing. He was standing just a few meters away from Hagrid's hut facing straight at one of the scariest place in the world, the Forbidden Forest.

"_Harry said he dropped it on the way to Voldemort's camp. According to some of the Death Eater prisoners we captured they had the camp about a kilometer from Hogwarts grounds a little bit off Hagrid's hut. Still how the bloody hell, am I going to find a normal looking river stone in the middle of a forest._" Ron said to himself as he heard the rustling of leaves in the forest.

The problem seemed hopeless even as he started walking into the tree line with his wand out.

"Accio Elder Stone. Accio Resurrection Stone."

"Nothing. That was stupid," reflected Ron on his actions. "_Maybe I can trace a magical signature. No, that won't work either; it's the Forbidden Forest - there's ton of magical beings in there. Think, Weasley, think._"

Before he could come up with an answer a small gold orb floated out of his Auror robe pocket and floated right in front of him.

"What the… Hermione? Is she wanting me?"

The gold orb slowly moved away from him and then swiftly started heading east deeper into the forest. Ron wasn't sure what was guiding it but he could sense that it knew where he needed to go. He hastily ran after it, leaping over roots, plowing through bushes, and swerving around giant trees.

Finally after an exhausting run of trying to stay within sight of the gold orb, it stopped. Like a falling feather it gingerly descended to the forest ground in front of him. He raced to the exact spot the gold orb went and dug past the leaves and dirt to find a black river stone in the shape of a diamond. Fearlessly and without hesitation he took the stone and turned it over three times in his hand.

"So pathetically dim-witted!"

Ron looked over his shoulder to see a smiling Fred Weasley in the form of a shadow. Fred was more than a ghost but less physically solid than a human being.

"Fred?" Ron timidly asked as his heart raced in equal parts of happiness and fear.

"No, I'm George. Accio Harry's broomstick."

Ron felt Harry's broomstick magically fly out of his Auror robe straight to the eager hands of Fred.

"I've been dying all over again to ride this wicked broom." Fred cracked as he magically enlarged it and tried to board it to ride.

Instead he fell straight through it like he was a ghost going through a wall.

"Bugger. Hold on… there has to be a way."

"I don't think there is." A familiar voice declared.

Ron looked around and saw Professor Dumbledore walking straight toward him. He was smiling with the same look he reserved for Harry.

"Ronald, to what do I owe the honor."

To Ron it seemed totally surreal and yet reassuring that both of them were there with him. Also, a bit maddening that neither one were truly there and were but a shadow. He had come to see Dumbledore, but seeing Fred was something he did not realize that he also needed.

"I think you know Professor," answered Ron.

"I might indeed. I see that you got a rudimentary grasp of the theory and now you're wondering if you should attempt putting those theories into practice."

"Yes sir." Ron replied with the background noise of Fred trying various magical spells on Harry's broom in order to ride it.

"I cannot say if you should. I can only explain the risks either way."

Ron hesitated before asking, "Everything that Professor Marchbanks said about you… was it true?"

Professor Dumbledore merely smiled as he answered, "It was the waltz. She forgot to mention the lighting and music that went along with it. I must say, I'm quite proud of the choice of dance music that I selected. It was a very memorable performance."

"You were the one that guided the gold orb to the stone. Weren't you?" Ron spoke up to the nodding answer of Professor Dumbledore.

"Okay, let's say I do attempt it. What exactly do I… I mean, I get that it's the flow of electrons in matter-"

Professor Dumbledore interrupted, "Not just the direction you can also control the speed as well."

"The speed… what will that do?"

"You tell me," Professor Dumbledore reassuringly suggested for him to practice by pointing at a rather large granite rock nearby.

Ron pointed his wand and minus a magical command or spell simply willed the electrons in the rock to go faster.

Nothing happened.

"It helps if you move you wand in the direction and speed that you want the electrons to flow in." Professor Dumbledore lectured.

Ron circled the wand in a clockwise motion, once, twice, three times with each spin faster than the one before. The effect was instant, the dormant rock vibrated then burst into flames.

"Now relax your wand to your side."

Ron returned his wand to his side and was surprised that it had not stopped the fire. In fact, it was burning on its own without the aid of his magic.

"The nuclear forces of the atoms, combined with the brunt force of magic can move matter in ways that Muggle or magical people have never dreamed of. In this case the speed of the electrons has caused a thermal conductivity within the rock. Now Mr. Weasley, what would happen if we were to slow the rock's electrons?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders that he wasn't sure before he lifted his wand and did the exact opposite of the wand motion and decreasing circular speed. As instantly as the rock was set ablaze it quickly smoldered and turned brittle. The rock looked as if it suffered a massive freeze and was unable to hold shape. It quickly cracked and then crumbled into much smaller rocks.

"Wicked. How about the direction? How do I make water flow up and down without me constantly using magic? Like the Seine River through the French Ministry." Ron excitedly asked.

Professor Dumbledore raised an eyebrow before he refused to answer his questions. "Ronald, there are some things that you are going to have to learn by yourself. Then when you feel you are ready you must test your skill in combat against an unbeatable wand. It is the only way to fully master the knowledge and power."

"What… wait… an unbeatable wand? It's buried with you." Ron attested to Professor Dumbledore with a tint of frustration.

"Yes, I had to defeat Gellert Grindelwald to be the true master of the Elder wand and the master of this power. Even though you say it's buried with me can you not think of another?"

Ron's mind immediately answered Professor Dumbledore's question before his conscious could object.

"Harry? You want me to beat Harry… in a duel."

"Well you're overdue that's for sure." Fred yelled over to him as he was still trying to ride Harry's broom.

Ron thought the whole premise was silly, after all the whole purpose of an unbeatable wand was - it was unbeatable. Professor Dumbledore sensed his next question and answered before he even asked.

"My dear boy, yes the wand is unbeatable and all powerful as you can imagine. However, it has for centuries had one single weakness."

Professor Dumbledore, with pure irritation on Ron's part, paused before he revealed the weakness. "You cannot beat the wand, Mr. Weasley, but you can certainly beat the wizard holding it."

"That's how you beat Grindelwald… it made you the true master of the wand." Ron surmised.

"I was a shade more skillful. Now Ronald I must return and you should not use the Resurrection stone ever again. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that." With that Professor Dumbledore completely faded away.

Watching Dumbledore leave he hadn't even noticed what Fred was up to. That was until an errant broom whizzed by his head missing him by a few centimeters.

"Oi, you stupid broom." Fred shouted at it.

Ron wasn't even upset with him; he missed him so much that he wasn't even going to waste a second of it arguing.

"Fred, I missed you… we've all missed you. Mum, Dad, George… everyone. It hasn't been the same without you."

Fred smiled a bit before he keenly turned angry at him. "Shut up you tosser. I know that already. What you don't know is George and the rest of the family needs you more than ever."

Ron said nothing as Fred rambled on. Fred had never been one to ramble like this so Ron figured what he was saying must be important.

"George won't admit it, but the business is circling the loo. Ginny and Harry are wanting to get married and they keep holding it off because they are worried about you. Mum and Dad are having a hard time paying off the loans. Then there's you."

"What about me," Ron asked a bit defensively like he was once again being picked on by his older brother.

"You're so pathetic that you don't realize you let the only girl that can put up with you slip right through your fingers."

"It's not my fault she left me and went sneaking around with some rich wanker." Ron shouted back at his disbelieving older brother.

"The same wanker that's home all the time, not doing some dangerous mission for no pay in some bloody far off country. He treats her to fancy restaurants and nights out on the town. While you… ha! When you finally did get home all your lazy arse did was stay home and gripe how little your pay was and how you got no respect."

"We went out!" Ron shouted in his defense.

"To Ginny's Quidditch matches? What makes you think Hermione cared at all about Quidditch?"

Ron said nothing as he started to find the dirt a whole lot more interesting.

"Face it, Ron. The cauldron has blown up in your face. You were a miserable git and she had enough of you."

Ron's shoulders slumped down in defeat as the truth laid on him like the weight of a dragon.

"Little brother, it's time for you to make a change and soon." Fred stated as he too started to fade away. "Tell George to start living as well by marrying Angelina. She's a good-"

Fred had completely vanished leaving Ron completely alone in the forest. He reburied the Resurrection stone and flew out of the forest on Harry's broom.

:::

* * *

><p>Ron continued to stay at Hogwarts to take up some mind-clearing Quidditch practice. It seemed a bit unusual to see a grown man, an Auror no less, practicing Quidditch surrounded by younger kids, but he didn't care. The kids on the other hand were all a bit scared of him and gave him half the field to be alone on. That was everyone except Marty and Tom. They were the two third year Gryffindor students that he had shown the House cup too. The familiarity between them made him less scary in their view and certainly more approachable.<p>

Tom would frequently ask him questions on which goal posts to hover in front of or how best to move out of a Bludger's way while still guarding a goal post. During this, Marty would attempt to hit either one of them with a Bludger as an opposing Beater. Problem being, Marty had the aim of a drunken sailor. He was awful.

"Marty, you're knocking them into the stands." Tom yelled over at him.

"I'm not strong enough to hit them where they need to go," Marty exasperated back to Tom.

Tom answered, "You don't have to power through with the Bludgers to get it where you want to go. You just direct it and let the Bludger do all the work."

"Bloody hell," Ron said aloud at what he had just said. "That's how you change the direction of the stream."

"What," asked Tom and Marty in confusion?

Ron didn't even reply as he stopped hovering around the goal posts and flew off the pitch to land over next to the lake. Tom and Marty quickly followed behind him.

"Here goes," Ron declared as he pulled out his wand and pointed it at the lake.

He pointed then slashed his wand like a Beater swing at the water electrons in the lake to make a massive column of water. It roared like a giant tidal wave and ushered fifty feet straight into the air like a colossal water fountain.

"Wowww," said the kids behind him.

Ron then did a swing at the water column in the air toward the Quidditch pitch. The water column immediately shot across the grounds through the center goal post and straight out on to the field.

"That's incredible," voiced Tom in total awe with him.

He had a half of a mind to make it spell out "_Weasley is our King_" over the Quidditch pitch. Instead he wisely directed it back toward the lake in a zigzag formation over the stands.

"I have to go," Ron advised his fellow Gryffindor.

"Where are you going," Marty asked as he look at the replenished lake and then back over to him?

"I have to go kick Harry Potter's arse."

:::

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><p>Ron was a bit nervous if he was honest. Not like he was going to have an easy job of it. Harry was good, better than good, and when you added his unbeatable wand - he was exceptionally good. He knew his only chance was to beat Harry the Wizard. Only then will he be a true master of the power and knowledge that he possessed.<p>

As he made his way across the Ministry atrium toward the lifts, he happened to notice Hermione heading in the opposite direction for home. She looked exhausted after what was already a long day. Even though he was sure the last thing she needed was for him to talk with her; he still felt an overwhelming need to talk with her after everything that Fred had told him.

"Hermione can I have a word?"

:::

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><p><strong>AN:** _Cliffhangers, an Author's best friend. BWHAHAHA! _


	22. Chapter 22: Circle of Trust

**Author's Rant:** JK Rowling can cause a Fanfic writer to give up and take a long overdue vacation to South Florida. Okay… you're right… a lot of things can make you do that. However, Mrs. Rowling has proven that she is the fly in my ointment. With only a keyboard, a computer, a monitor, and an internet link to the website Pottermore; she has turned my little After Hogwarts fanfic into a very Out Of Canon story. **Bloody Hell! **

That's the problem with Rowling defined cannon, it's not a static, well-defined, everything written in stone with the already released books. _AAGGHHH!_ Instead, it's a fluid, changing current events of character's personal history being posted on a website years after the fact. The new cannon is this: JKR recently wrote Professor Minerva McGonagall and her now NEW CANNON personal background on Pottermore. In one small posting she has completely riddled my well laid out story from the realistic and possible to the fringe of OOC.

I won't spoil you with the details, but I have to say for an author who professes not to read Fanfiction – JKR wrote a beauty of one for Professor McGonagall. If you haven't read it yet it's worth a look. Best short angst fanfiction of the year in my opinion.

I also feel the need to brag about the fact that once again I have a greater understanding of the books and the characters than most. I've always felt that McGonagall had a romantic lost love in her past. I always thought it would be with a fellow Scottish male and not some zany theory of Prof. Dumbledore or some other mentioned character. This is why I added the character, "Gerard McKay," in my story and added the unrequited love/lost love element. Only JKR gave McGonagall not one but two lost loves: Dougal McGregor a Scottish Muggle and Elphinstone Urquart an older ex-boss. _Didn't see that coming._ Another thing I correctly noticed was some of the common traits that Prof. McGonagall and Hermione Granger both carry.

So what do I do with my story on Chapter Twenty Two? Not like I can change everything to get back to the shifting sands of Cannon. The only thing I can think of is to order a Dirty Banana or a Mojito and smile at the pretty girl at the end of the bar.

* * *

><p><strong>Beta's Note: <strong>It smells to me like the cogs are really starting to turn in this story. How do we all feel about a re-invigorated Ron who has been given a new purpose by a visit from Ron and Dumbledore? I personally am very excited. Too often Ron was pushed to the side and now we are getting a story in which Ron is truly front and center and the hero! If you have even a little bit of love for Ron who have to understand how cool that is.

:::

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><p><strong>Chapter 22 – Circle of Trust<strong>

"Hermione can I have a word?" Ron timidly asked even though he knew that he needed to appear to be confident in front of Hermione.

Her immediate recognition of him and expression was going to make that all but impossible.

"Ron, I'm going home and I have nothing to say to you." A defiant and frustratingly obstinate Hermione stated to him.

It felt like a sharp jab into his chest, but he wasn't going to be deterred no matter how much of a pain she was.

"Hermione, I just wanted to tell you…" Ron declared as Hermione refused to listen to him and continued on with the crowd of Ministry employees headed toward the Ministry gilded fireplaces in the Atrium.

He solemnly watched as a stern-looking Hermione stepped into a fireplace and left via the Floo system.

"… I still love you."

Ron was aggravated and a bit mad at himself for trying to talk and reason with a woman that can NEVER be reasoned with. Without saying another word he left for the Auror Training room on the tenth floor. To get there he had to take the lift to the Ninth floor and then take the stairs down to the Tenth. It didn't help speed up his journey by the fact he felt completely lost. Adding to that as he rode the lift down to the Ninth floor, he heard the unmistakable snarky magical voice of the lift.

"Level Nine – Department of Mysteries. Buck up and move on. Please watch your step."

Ron angrily pulled out his wand and magically slowed the electrons on the entire lift. He stepped out in time to watch piece after piece of the lift freeze, noisily crack, then break off into smaller falling pieces. Within a few second the entire lift was reduced to a pile of broken wooden panels, gears, gold metal beams, and a dying magical voice.

"Please… wat..ch you…r…r"

Ron knowingly smirked to himself that he would have to inform Reg that Maintenance would need to give the next lift a new attitude. That or it would suffer another unexplainable maintenance problem. Ron smartly left the now decomposed lift and quickly made his way past the courtrooms to the Auror training room in the back. The training room was nothing more than a huge stone chamber that had once been used as extra storage for the Department of Mysteries. Ever since then the room carried an eerie feeling whenever you walked into it. Sort of like walking into a store that everyone in it knows you don't belong. As Ron walked in feeling that same unnerving eerie feeling; he noticed the room was filled with various Auror trainees dueling with one another under the watchful supervision of Harry. Not just Harry's supervision but hanging at the front of the room hung a huge magical portrait of Auror Mad-Eye Moody. He would occasionally bark out commands to the trainees in the room.

"**Constant vigilance! **Never lower your wand until he's in Auror cuffs and the area is secure."

The receiver of said sound advice was a new trainee called Bartson. He was a doing a lot better since he splinched in the middle of a duel with Harry. Fortunately St. Mungo's kept open beds for each of the Aurors, trainees included.

Ron paused and took a deep breath before he made his intentions clear.

"_Merlin, this is going to be one for the history books._" Ron surmised as he held out his wand and pointed it at the ceiling.

Gold sparks flew out the tip of his wand in a radiant firework display, instantly grabbing everyone's attention.

"Ron, what are you doing?" Harry angrily asked Ron for interrupting his dueling class.

Ron felt his jaw lock a bit before he gathered the courage to blurt out, "I'm… I'm here to challenge you to a duel."

The trainees' broke the silence with a small bit of laughter as all of them assessed Ron's chances of winning. He ignored them, even when Harry rolled his eyes and barked back at him.

"**Ron, I'm in the middle of a class!**"

Ron shot a rather nasty Boil Hex toward him barely missing a surprised Harry's head by half a meter. Harry's facial reaction said it all. Gone were the boyish charm and looks, Harry was sporting a nasty disposition of wanting to wipe the floor with Ron.

"Everyone else - get out." Ron boldly declared.

Instead of stampeding to the door, like they should've had, they all gaped at him and then back to Harry on what really to do.

"You want a duel, Ron? I would be careful asking for something you can't win."

Ron rather cheekily retorted, "Well, I guess I'm overdue, Chosen One."

Ron knew that Harry hated that title. The comment pushed Harry past the point of willing to protect his friend. In fact, it pushed him into anger.

"Class dismissed." An irritated Harry announced to the surprise and maybe a bit of delight for the trainees watching.

The trainees still hadn't exited the room; instead they lined the walls leaving the center for Harry and himself.

Harry pulled out his wand and started circling with Ron in the center of the room. It was similar to the duel Harry had with Voldemort so many years ago in the Great Hall. "You wouldn't happen to have my broom?"

Ron smirked to Harry's snarling question and peeked open his Auror robes for Harry to see. "To be honest with you, it's a bit scratched up."

A wave of desire for Ron's brutal murder washed over Harry's face faster than a Dragon spiting fireballs. Harry swiftly waved his wand and a flash of blue light came at Ron.

"_Protego,_" Ron swished his wand to shield himself from what he guessed was the Body-Bind curse.

Harry followed up with two more spells that Ron had to shield himself from before he could Apparate to the opposite side of the room. He knew he had to outflank Harry if he was going to have any chance of beating him. At that point, Ron launched several Blasting curses, _Confringo_, in an arc pattern to force Harry out of the center of the room. What he didn't account for was the effect it was having on the spectators. Two trainees were hit and knocked senseless against the stone walls. The other errant Blasting curses hit the walls with so much force that it was shaking the entire room. Harry safely Apparated next to Mad-Eye's magical portrait in the front of the room then immediately started shooting yellow Impediment curses at him. Harry was forcing the duel to whose wand was more powerful, a contest that Ron knew he couldn't win.

Ron knew he had to act fast, as he leaped sideways while aiming his wand at the roof over Harry's head. He slowed the electron to the ceiling and mid-leap Apparated to the opposite side of the room away from Harry. Unfortunately, the ceiling crumbled too slowly to have any effect as Harry Apparated for safety to the center again. Ron tried again at the ceiling in the center, but Harry quickly Apparated away to right beside him.

"**Stupid git!**" Harry roared as he punched him across the jaw.

It was surprising how strong Harry could punch you being that he was a skinny bloke.

He was completely caught off guard as Harry was more of a wand fighter and less of a hand-to-hand fighter than he was. That was Ron's strength. Of course, that didn't help him with his now throbbing jaw. He tried to roundhouse punch him in retaliation, but was instantly hit with a purple Revulsion Jinx instead. The jinx sent him cartwheeling through the air toward the center of the room.

Instead of quickly Apparating behind him to finish the duel, Harry was angrily walking straight toward him with his wand out. That's when the thought occurred to him. He saw all the flame torches on the walls that were lighting the room.

"If it can work on water, then maybe it can work on fire." Ron haphazardly said even though his jaw was still ringing.

Ron did a Beater's swing at one of the torches sending a stream of fire straight at Harry's right. Harry a bit surprised at what he had done still managed to duck to the floor avoiding the flaming streak of fire over his head. He quickly followed up with another torch's fire; this time sending it the opposite direction forming an "X" across the middle of the room. The two streaking flames kept a confused Harry pinned to the floor. By now all the surviving trainees were cowardly making a full retreat toward the door before they got burned. Consequentially, Ron shook his head in disappointment as he noticed they left behind some of their fallen classmates. Before he could yell at them to scamper back and collect them, Harry shot a Disarming spell that he wisely had to avoid by leaping toward the door himself. When he got to the door he used his wand to speed up all the electrons on all the stone floors around Harry closing him inside a circle of fire.

"You fight like Albus Dumbledore," Mad-Eye Moody's magical portrait surmised out loud.

"How is that possible?" shouted Harry. By now Harry was feeling the heat from all the fires around him and above him, so much so that he was desperately trying to extinguish it to no avail.

Ron cheekily answered him as he levitated one fallen trainee after another outside the door. "It's a secret. Sort of like you not telling me about Hermione seeing another guy or you wanting to marry my sister."

Harry responded, "I told you I didn't know that she was going to do that. We just told her to take a break and get a proper perspective on everything."

Ron looked back, after levitating the last remaining trainee to the safety of the corridor, to find that Harry was no longer in the circle. To his horror, Harry was standing next to Mad-Eye's magical portrait aiming his wand straight at him. To say he was a flobberworm about to be stepped on was an understatement.

Instead, Harry talked about Ginny. "I want to marry her, Ron."

"I know… why haven't you?"

Harry seemed a bit worried to say what he wanted too, but reluctantly after pausing for a moment answered him.

"We're worried about you. We both want Hermione and you to be at our wedding… but neither one of us think that you can handle it."

Ron guessed what Harry meant by that. "You mean if I see Hermione with Derrick."

Harry nodded yes.

Ron forgetting that half the room was on fire, the heat was getting completely unbearable, and Harry had his wand pointed straight at him asked Harry a question straight from his heart.

"Does she talk about me, Harry?"

Reluctantly, Harry shook his head side-to-side before saying, "She's constantly going on about Derrick. I'm sorry, mate." Harry felt the need to add more of a walloping on his heart. "She doesn't mention you at all. In fact, last week she only talked about Derrick and her lost love, Viktor."

"**Vicky? He's her lost love?**"

Harry shook his head yes before saying, "That's what she said."

Pure ravenous unadulterated jealousy spread throughout his mind as he angrily shouted back at Harry. "**She only went out with him to the bloody dance! She swore to me they only shared one kiss! How can he be her lost love? What am I… a mistake?**"

Harry didn't answer him even as he still held his wand out to duel.

"**Aaggh… Weasley!**" Mad-Eye cried out as his magical portrait was suddenly on fire. In fact all the wanted posters in the room were also on fire. Not that Ron noticed, he couldn't think about anything other than Hermione dancing with someone else at Harry and Ginny's wedding.

Mad-Eye's screaming then quickly leaving the portrait on fire and it being so close to Harry forced him to take his eyes off Ron to look directly at it. Ron realized it was accidental magic from his jealousy over Hermione that started the fire. It was the same jealousy and anger that had almost completely burned down his Auror's office. This self-awareness allowed him to realize what happened and to instantly react by verbally shouting the Disarming Spell at Harry.

"**Expelliarmus!**"

The spell hit Harry straight on his side shooting the wand out of his magically released hand straight toward Ron. He swiftly caught it in mid-air and amazingly watched as the wand shot gold sparks at its new Master.

"**Ron!**" Harry indignantly shouted back at him, knowing full well that Ron was now the new Master of his unbeatable wand.

Ron nodded in understanding then shouted back at Harry. "I still want you to marry Ginny. I'll… I'll just deal with it… the wedding and Hermione. You have my blessing to marry my sister."

Surprisingly, Harry laughed at what Ron just said. "Haha, I don't need your blessing Your dad already gave it to me months ago."

Ron devilishly smiled back at Harry that he would indeed need his blessing. He used Harry's old wand and magically speed up the electrons to all the stone floors in the room except around a wandless Harry. The entire floor of the training room was completely on fire except a small circle around Harry pinned to the wall.

"**Ron!**" Harry shouted in fear of what he was doing.

"You see this Harry, this is what the Muggles call Hell. This is where gits go when they don't get blessings from their best friends to marry their sister."

"Okay, I take it back. **Ron, I want to marry your sister!**"

Ron ham-ishly acted out by moving his chin this way and that way to act out that he was considering Harry's request.

"Do you think you'll be a good husband to Ginny?"

"**Ron, it's getting hot in here! Now give me my wand back!**"

Ron held up Harry's old wand and waved with it at Harry from the safety by the door. Then he shouted back, "You didn't answer my question**!"**

"**Yes, I love her you bloody git!**" Harry growled.

"Hmmm… Okay you can marry her." Ron decided and then created a bigger circle for his soon to be brother-in-law to be in.

Then he performed a cooling spell on Harry so that he didn't burn alive by the fire surrounding him. After that he finished by saying, "Harry, I have to go back to France. I'll talk with you later about the wedding."

"**RON!**" Harry screamed at him as Ron stepped outside and shut the door behind him.

To his surprise or maybe his anguish he found Hermione standing right in the corridor blocking his path to leave.

"Ron, what's going on in there?" Hermione asked a bit sternly.

Feeling a bit embolden with his win over Harry, he refused to show any hurt or weakness toward Hermione and as such he resolutely answered, "Nothing just the usual duel between me and Harry."

"**No it's not!**" Harry yelled from behind the door, obviously able to hear everything they were saying.

"It's Harry and I," Hermione corrected him before she shouted at the door. "**Are you alright Harry?**"

"He's fine," replied Ron over Harry's plea for help. "**Hermione get me out of here!**"

Ron smiled at a distrusting Hermione and took a good look at her as she walked over to the training room door. She was dressed a bit different, more fashionable, with makeup on her face even.

"You're wearing makeup."

"Spot on, Ron. You just noticed that did you?" Hermione spun around to argue with Ron completely forgetting about Harry.

"**HERMIONE!**" Harry shouted again in vain for her rescue.

Ron as if seeing Hermione for the first time told her exactly what he felt about her new look. "I think it looks rubbish."

Hermione instantly rolled her eyes before snapping, "You would."

"**ANYBODY!**" Harry shouted again from inside the training room.

"What does Derrick like it?" Ron testily retorted. "You changing?"

Hermione rather annoyed with Ron proudly responded, "Yes, he does."

"**For the love of Merlin!**" Harry loudly exasperated.

"If he doesn't like you the way you are then he's rubbish." Ron honestly declared.

Hermione seemed a bit lost for words even though Ron could tell she wanted to argue with him.

"Harry is getting married," Ron stated aloud completely changing the subject.

"What," Hermione rather happily asked. "**When?**"

"**It better be soon!**" Ron shouted at the door for Harry to hear him.

"**Ginny has to get time off first!**" Harry shouted his answer back to him.

Ron nodded his head in understanding before he took his old wand and handed it to a questioning Hermione.

"He left behind his wand."

"**No I didn't – he stole it!**" Harry snitched.

Hermione looked down and quickly recognized it. "Ron, this is your wand."

"Nah, it's Harry's until I done using his. Bye Hermione." Ron stated as he spun around and started walking toward the stairs to leave.

"Ron, where are you going?" Hermione shouted at him.

"Going to find a new dance partner for the wedding."

:::

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><p><strong>AN:** _Sorry for the long wait. Like I said I was on vacation. Please review!_


	23. Chapter 23: French Affair

**Author's Rant:** I love how my reviewers are er…. _vocal_ by how I characterize Hermione Granger in my story. The truth is I'm a huge Hermione fan. Always have been, always will be. Why, because she's intelligent, thoughtful, balanced, logical, brave, and caring. To which is why I have a hard time writing about her. She is nothing I have ever personally experienced before. Sadly, I have only dealt with one type of woman that is… to borrow a term used by Sheldon on the Big Bang Theory, "**Bat Crap Crazy**".

I only know Bat Crap Crazy women. The ones that hear voices in their heads, or they swear their fellow lady co-workers are evil twisted monsters that are building an army of Death Eaters to destroy her. Then you have the ones that constantly complain to anyone that will listen about their bad fortunes, but will never EVER lift a finger to change any of it. Not to forget the girls that uses the "Looking-at-Towels". (_Honestly, is that most absurd thing you ever heard of? What next… the Looking-at-toilet-paper?_) Plus, you have the President, Owner, and Personal user of: Ouija boards, mystical scented candles, Indian "Good Spirit" charm bracelets, and any other non-scientific gobbledygook they heard about and then say to you, "**It really works**". Then there's the Ex that believed filing an annual tax return with the IRS was optional. Not to forget the girl that spent thousands of dollars buying 500 different pair of shoes and yet couldn't spend $3 to buy a toilet plunger to put next to the toilet… not even a "Looking-at-toilet-plunger." In short, they are all Bat Crap Crazy.

**Merlin, I wish I knew a Hermione in real life, because that would be REAL magic. **

* * *

><p><strong>Beta's Note: <strong>More badass Ron in this chapter. And deservedly so. This boy is making things happen and he is going to save the world. Hope you are all ready for the ride.

:::

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><p><strong>Chapter 23 – French Affair<strong>

Even though Ron was master of Harry's old wand, the wand felt different than what he expected. He always did have a hard time truly understanding subtle laws of wandlore allegiance and mastery. What he could understand was the fact that Harry's old wand felt, for a lack of a better word, that he was borrowing it. He could also sense that the wand didn't have a problem with him using it as they were both on a mutual quest for magical experience. To him the so-called quest was purely for survival, for the wand it was more a chance of magical greatness. How a wand could sense all-of-that was beyond him, but he had a hunch that once everything was finished the wand would assert itself that it wanted to go back to its true master, Harry Potter.

Even with that going on Ron still had to figure out on what he had to do next. Since returning to France, he discovered that the French newspapers had buried his public proclamation of the existences of the Immortals. He was also sure that had more to do with the recent suicide, as the French Ministry proclaimed, of the Editor-in-Chief of the Paris Tribune de Presse. The so-called suicide involved a glass of Eternal Sleep in his wine during the evening supper with his wife and children. It was worth noting that the Immortals hadn't even bothered to write up a phony suicide note beforehand.

"Arrogant gits," Ron surmised at the brash way the Immortals murdered an Editor to keep the news of their existence a secret.

"The French people need to know the truth… but how?"

"Hoot."

Ron looked to his right to see a rather large brown and black tipped feathered Great Horned Owl swooping through the garden doors of his apartment and landing on his shoulder.

"Bugger." Ron groaned, as he recognized Artemis was carrying a note from her master.

:::

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><p><em>Dear Ron,<em>

_Harry told me what happened and I just want to say I love you, big brother. Hopefully, I can get enough time off after the season ends to have a proper time of planning the announcements and our wedding. Nothing too fancy or expensive mind you. _

_Oh… Harry wanted me to tell you that you're his best man providing you return his wand and broomstick that I bought him. By the way, I paid a lot of money for the new Thunderwood for Harry so you better not lose it you prat. _

_Love, _

_Ginny_

_PS: Don't worry too much about Hermione. The grass is not always greener on the other side of the mountain._

:::

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><p>"What the heck does that mean?" Ron exasperated.<p>

He shook his head, confused as always when it came to suggestions on how Hermione was really doing. Mainly, because every time he talked with her she was the exact opposite of what people were saying.

"Hmmm… their wedding announcement should be big news." Ron thought aloud. "It might actually work in our favor. They would certainly earn the front page headlines."

Ron magically summoned a quill from his still unpacked suitcase and began writing a reply back to Ginny and Harry.

:::

* * *

><p><em>Ginny and Harry Potter… nice ring to that.<em>

_I need a favor, strictly work related. I need you to make your engagement announcement tonight to the entire Wizarding press, especially the international press. Do it big, Harry. Big ring and all that. Then mention me as your best man and that I'm leading the investigation against the Immortals here in France. Mention your regrets about the press being murdered over here and that you hope others in the international press will champion the cause to provide real news to the French people. _

_Hopefully, the word gets out to the French public and the Immortals find themselves under the public spotlight. _

_Ron_

_PS: I don't know what you're talking about with Hermione or the broomstick that you mentioned. Did Harry lose a broomstick?_

:::

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><p>Normally, Ron hated morning meetings. They were early, too early in fact, as he definitely wasn't a morning person. Often more times than not, he was late for them. Then there was the fact that when he finally did get to the morning meeting, instead of listening to whomever was speaking all he could concentrate on was how hungry he was for missing breakfast or how full he was for having just eaten breakfast. Either way he never really got anything out of attending morning meetings.<p>

That was until today. Today he was carrying thirty newspapers of the International Daily Prophet under his arm as he entered the French Aurors' morning meeting. As he opened the door and smartly walked into a crowded room of French Aurors, he heard the unmistakable voice of Director of Justice, Monsieur Delacour.

"We have been alerted that several criminals … Ronald? What are you doing here? This meeting is for French Aurors only. Did they not reassign you?"

Ron pleasantly smiled at the unfriendly introduction and the hostile sneers he was getting from the twenty or so French Aurors in the room.

"My apology, Monsieur, I couldn't wait to tell you that our little family is growing."

Ron lifted his wand and magically levitated the newspapers out to everyone in the room. Ron spoke up before a questioning Delacour could say anything.

"My best friend Harry is getting married to my little sister."

Monsieur a bit surprised by his attitude and announcement politely offered congratulations after he glanced down at the headlines on the front page of the newspaper. "Well… er bravo Ronald."

Ron smiled a bit brighter especially after looking at the two French Aurors he recognized from the farmhouse. Both of them weren't the least bit pleased or excited at him or his news.

"Thank you, sir." Ron warmly offered, knowing that Monsieur hadn't bothered to properly read the wedding announcement and Harry's personal comments about the Immortals.

Part of him was keen to rub their nose in their now public outing and that every major newspaper in the world, France included, was carrying the story. The rational chess player in him thought it a better move for them all to be surprised by it. In any case, they would not necessarily believe that he was the one pulling the strings, but Harry Potter the Chosen One.

The door behind him partially opened as a gorgeous blonde hair woman stuck her head in to say something.

"Directeur Delacour, have you seen Mr. Weasley? Ah, there you are."

Ron instantly recognized the heavenly Miss Posey, Mr. Delacour private secretary, as she entered into the room to talk with him.

"Yes, Miss Posey?" Monsieur asked in an official business tone that stressed he was in the middle of a meeting and didn't really appreciate the interruptions.

"Président Hollande wishes to see Mr. Weasley in his office."

Ron was a bit surprised, but he played it off. "I bet he wants to score some tickets for the wedding."

He watched, as Monsieur seemed a bit nervous of his assumption. Ron said nothing more as he quietly left the morning meeting and escorted the sexy secretary to the Presidential offices.

"Hi." Ron offered to Miss Posey in attempt to start a conversation as they made their way to the elevators.

Miss Posey smiled rather sexily as she tilted her head to run her fingers through her curly blonde hair. "Hello again, Ronald. We thought you were leaving us. I'm glad that you stayed."

Ron was sure his face had to be crimson red no matter how hard he tried to play cool in front of Miss Posey.

"No, I like it here. Do you like it here?" Ron suddenly realized he just asked something stupid. "Of course, you like it here - I mean you live here. I er was… I was… say if you're not doing anything tomorrow night-"

Before Ron could even finish out his shabby attempt of asking Miss Posey out on a date, she interrupted him with a question.

"What do you have in mind?"

Ron was blindsided at just how quick everything went from no chance in the world that she give him the time of the day to maybe she actually liked him.

"Well… I was thinking we go out for dinner and maybe you could give me a tour of Paris."

She rather sexily smiled and softly leaned in toward him, "I don't date Aurors."

Ron rather cheekily replied, "I don't date them either. They're a bunch of crybabies about facing Dark Wizards."

He would have to pray to Merlin that Mad-Eye Moody never heard him say that, the magical portrait or even the dead one on the other side. However, it was still worth the risk when he saw Miss Posey starting to giggle.

"I have you know I'm more of a Liason than an Auror."

She smiled as they entered the elevators and then politely spoke. "In French, Liason is used as word sequences in a sentence."

Ron boldly whispered back, "In English, it means a close relationship. It also can be used to describe an affair."

He watched as her facial expression perked up and she started to blush when he told her this. Unfortunately, the elevator carried them to the Presidential offices and he never got a proper response from her on his offer.

"He's expecting you down the hall and to the left. I'll be seeing you soon, Ronald."

Ron's heart sang like Scottish bagpipes as she said goodbye and it took a few moments to calm himself after she left via the elevator.

:::

* * *

><p>One can tell a lot by a person's office and being that it was the French President of Magic his said grandeur and flamboyant. Not sure if that was more to do with France as a country or the current President, but either way Ron was sure he have to be mindful of whom he could trust.<p>

"Mr. Weasley, welcome. I am zee President of Magic," offered a rather tall and elderly wizard going on what he could guess was a 110.

"Thank you, sir." Ron replied as he gingerly shook the President's hand. "To what do I owe the honor?"

The President seemed a bit nervous to say something as he paced a bit as Ron was sitting in a high chair in front of his desk. From what Ron could tell from the newspapers on the President's desk, he had in fact read the entire articles about Harry and Ginny's wedding. He also could tell that it wasn't the wedding that was bothering the President. He was now starting to wonder just how high were the Immortals reach inside the French Department of Magic.

"Mr. Weasley, I… I suppose you know a great many er… irregularities have been happening."

Ron nodded in agreement, as he voiced what he thought the irregularities were. "The murders, yes sir."

The President felt a bit more relaxed as he stopped pacing to look directly at Ron. "Wee, too many for it to be suicide or them up and leaving France without warning. I think… I know that something is wrong."

Ron felt like the President was your typical politician in the form of Cornelius Fudge, a little blustering, and a little pompous. Being that the President was French, he was a lot pompous, but Ron could sense he wasn't dirty either. If he had to guess, he was a bit clueless on what was really going on in the world around him. Ron remembered that was a trait that Fudge carried as well.

"Mr. Weasley is there any chance that you can persuade Mr. Potter to come here to France?"

Ron had to stop the natural impulse of rolling his eyes at what the President was suggesting. He wanted Harry to lead an investigation against the Immortals and not him.

"Mr. President, I don't think he'll be able to, with him getting married."

The President was a bit depressed at hearing this and Ron hoped he would approve his offer of him leading an investigation.

"Sir, with respect, I've been with Harry from the beginning and I know I can be just as helpful as he can."

The President wasn't entirely sure of his assessment.

"Sir, with your support I can track down the Immortals and stop them. I already have several leads and suspects."

The President timidly said, "Monsieur Delacour has been telling me they don't exist anymore."

Ron stood up and looked directly at the President. "I think we both know, that Mr. Delacour has been lying to you."

The President paused a few seconds and then bravely responded with a small nod that he agreed with Ron.

"What do you require, Mr. Weasley?"

:::

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><p>By the time Ron got back to his office, next door to the French Aurors' offices, he happened to notice that most of the Aurors were angrily reading the newspaper that he had given them earlier. What made it even sweeter was the expression of disgust and anger as one of them ripped the headlines into shreds and tossed it across the room. Even the two Aurors he met at the farmhouse looked troubled.<p>

Ron smiled to himself, that if they found that troubling, then they weren't going to like what they were going to read in tomorrow's newspaper. He desperately wanted to stick his head in their office and yell, "_Check – my Knight has your King."_ He wisely fought back the urge and went about his business of making his next moves for Check Mate.

Ron quickly left the office to update Kingsley and Harry with the news. After that, he was going directly to Courcoue… wherever that was. With any luck, he could find a toad.

:::

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><p><strong>AN:** Review please!


	24. Chapter 24: Toad's Place

**Author's Rant:** Hermione Granger correctly identified Divination, (the branch of magic that involves attempting to foresee the future) as "_woolly_" and "_a lot of guesswork._" Professor McGonagall was a bit kinder as she called it, "_one of the most imprecise branches of magic._" I would just like to add, "_it's a bunch of Bat Crap._"

Take the Muggle equivalent of Divination, Astrology. In Astrology, for some silly birthday established reason, I am an Aries. I say it's more to the fact that my Father was in the 82nd Airborne during the Vietnam War and had a few days of leave, which he used to see my Mom. Because of that I can make a calculated guess about what happened at the now demolished drive-in movie theater not far from my Grandmother's house and how I appeared nine months later. However, in Divination … I mean Astrology, the stars and planets movement had more to do with my established birthday then the backseat of a car and a boring movie. (_By the way, to the adult readers with children… make sure your kids never go on a date to a boring movie – just saying._)

Another reason why I don't like Astrology is that you have no say in what sign you want to be. Take me for instance; I'm an Aries, a Ram. This means, I'm what…hardheaded? (_**Shut-up!**__ I'm driven, big difference. :-P_) Why can't I be Leo the Lion? Or Sagittarius the Archer? Or even Taurus the Bull?

Wand lore is no different. Your birthday determines the wood of your wand.

**Birch**: December 24 - January 20

**Rowan**: January 21 - February 17

**Ash**: February 18 - March 17

**Alder**: March 18 - April 14

**Willow**: April 15 - May 12

**Hawthorn**: May 13 - June 9

**Oak**: June 10 - July 7

**Holly**: July 8 - August 4

**Hazel**: August 5 - September 1

**Vine**: September 2 - September 29

**Ivy**: September 30 - October 27

**Reed**: October 28 - November 23

**Elder**: November 24 - December 23

Why can't I be Oak? Or Willow or Elder?

And who keeps picking all the cool stuff for June and July while the rest of the months suffer? It's a pureblood conspiracy, that's what-it-is.

**To finish up, I'm not going to believe in Divination, Astrology, or Wand lore until they start giving my birthday cooler stuff**.

:::

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><p><strong>Chapter 24 – Toad's Place<strong>

It took a, "Just tell me where it is," and a loud sigh of frustration from Ron, for Percy to finally end his drawn-out lecture on where Courcoue, France was located so he could setup a Portkey. Not that there was anything to brag about as, Courcoue was just a sleepy little muggle village in the center of France. It had a few farm houses, some old plaster rock walls, courtyards, a church and a quaint little town hall. If he had to guess after seeing only a small pub on the corner of the Rue de Richelieu, the town hall would be the only place to hold a muggle estate auction.

As he entered the hall, he noticed a small elderly French woman behind a desk.

"Good morning, Ma'am. I wouldn't suppose you know where I could find the person in charge of the estate sale you had a few weeks back." Ron politely asked, in English as to seem like a muggle tourist.

Truth be told, he hadn't performed the _Translation_ spell since he got back from meeting with Harry and Kingsley.

"Je ne comprends pas?"

Ron knew from her facial gestures that she didn't speak any English.

"The Estate… estate sale." Ron tried to say again slowly.

"May I help you?" Another muggle woman inquired, as she entered the room from a side office.

Ron noticed the woman was a thirty something French muggle, wearing business clothing and had a competent look about her. Clearly, she was the person in charge.

"Hi, I was wondering what you could tell me about the estate sale you had here a few weeks ago."

"Yes, that would be the Ayrault estate. Francois Ayrault died rather suddenly and he had no heirs so we held an estate sale to settle his debts. Fortunately, everything was sold so I don't think I can be of much help," the woman calmly stated.

Ron smiled as he thought of an excuse to get this woman back in her office. He would have to _Obliviate_ her memory after he got the answers he needed.

"I was wondering if you had a manifest of the items that were sold. Plus, a listing of the buyers would be very helpful."

Ron noticed the calm look disappear from the woman's face and her voice was a bit strained as she answered him, "I'm afraid we can't release that information."

Ron slipped out his wand and politely responded, "Yes ma'am, I understand. I just really need that information. Maybe it will be better if we talk about it in your office."

The woman hesitated for a moment but Ron charmingly smiled at her, and reluctantly she turned and walked back towards her office as she gestured for him to follow.

The office was small but neat with a row of filing cabinets behind her. Ron waited until she was seated at her desk before he took a picture from his pocket and showed it to the woman. "Did you happen to see this woman at the sale?" Ron asked.

"Oui, Madame Selwyn. She purchased the vineyards and… and… I can't remember. That's odd," the muggle woman said, as a confused expression spread across her face like she had lost something.

Ron knew he was on the right track when he heard the surname, Selwyn. Umbridge tried to claim she was related to the Selwyn pure-blood family during the Second Wizarding War.

"Do you have a paper copy of the sale?" Ron asked, hoping Umbridge was sloppy enough not to bother magically erasing all the muggle paperwork on the sale.

The woman, although she still seemed a bit dazed, looked through one of the filing cabinets behind the desk before turning around to inform Ron, "I don't seem to have it. Very odd, I always keep copies."

'_Bugger_,' Ron thought. Truth be told, he was a bit surprised that Umbridge had been so completely thorough. She usually relied on underlings to handle important details from the office staff at the Ministry of Magic to the Inquisitorial Squad at Hogwarts.

He realized he would probably have to get around a_ Fidelius_ charm that was on the country estate.

"Can you tell me where this… Francois Ayrault used to live?"

"Oui. You just follow the road outside for five kilometers north and you will see his old… I don't remember."

"Thank you ma'am, you've been very helpful," Ron replied, as he waved his wand and erased her memory of him ever being there.

:::

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><p>Ron flew the five kilometer distance on Harry's broomstick until he saw a gravel road that went a few hundred meters and abruptly ended at an empty grass field. Moreover, the look of the gravel road looked like it had been frequently used. Conversely, the grass field was overgrown and completely empty except for a few trees that were in a perfectly neat row next to it. Behind the grass field was a vineyard that looked as if it had been unattended for weeks. Everything gave Ron the feeling that a house should have been sitting at the end of the gravel road right in the middle of the row of trees.<p>

"Only one way to be certain," Ron said to himself, as he landed on his broom and began to look around the field for a hole or a stump.

Normally, a wizard would put a ward up to keep unwelcome intruders out or nosey muggle from snooping around. Those wards carried a magical signature that was easily detectable with a wand or a Secrecy sensor much like the one that Mr. Filch often used on incoming and outgoing students on Hogsmeade weekends. A _Fidelius_ charm was completely different it did not use wards at all. There was only one way to tell if a house was under a _Fidelius_ charm or a ward. Something magical had to be thrown at where the house should have been and if bounced off for no apparent reason then you knew for certain something was there. Of course, if you threw something magical at an invisible magical ward then it, it being the magical person, would instantly burn up like paper on fire. This was definitely something one didn't want to test out personally.

"Where the hell are you, you bloody git?" Ron demanded.

"Grable grumble rapple…"

"There you are!" rejoiced Ron when he heard the sound. He turned and noticed a small little rabbit hole in the field near the trees.

Ron quickly walked over to the rabbit hole, stuck his hand deep inside, and grasped what felt like a pair of feet, which he quickly confirmed as they began to kick at him. With a bit of tussle he pulled out a garden gnome, lifted him over his head and started spinning him around in big circles.

"Gra..b..b..l..e-," the dizzy gnome protested.

Ron hurled it with all his might towards the center of the empty grass field and watched the gnome cartwheel in a flying spin until it suddenly stopped with a small thud, five meters off the ground in mid-air. The now pancaked looking gnome slowly peeled himself off what looked like nothing but air.

"Auugghhh," moaned the gnome, as he fell straight down to the ground and landed with an even louder thud.

"Definitely not a ward! Harry will be happy to hear about this."

:::

* * *

><p>Harry was not happy. In fact, from what Ron could see from his facial expression, Harry wanted a rematch just so he could punch him in the face again.<p>

"Good job on getting the President to back our investigation, Ron." Kingsley Shacklebolt stated, from behind his desk at the Ministry of Magic.

Ron noticed that Harry said nothing as he continued to shoot murderous looks at Ron and completely ignore whatever Kingsley and Percy, who was also attending the meeting, were saying.

"Thank you, sir. I've also been able to identify the location of where Dolores… I… I forgot what I was going to say." Ron stammered as he suddenly felt drowsy.

Kingsley looked at him rather suspiciously before he asked, "Ronald, do you know where Dolores Umbridge is?"

Ron was stilling feeling a bit out of it was about to say yes, but his mind seemed blank for some reason.

"I… I forgot."

"Memory loss spell?" inquired Percy, as he looked worriedly at him and then to Kingsley.

"Let's see. Ronald, can you tell me what you did today."

Ron's head started to clear up a little as he tried his best to answer the Minister's question. "I got up this morning and got thirty newspapers to hand out to the Immortals during their morning meeting. I then met the President. He reminds me of Cornelius Fudge."

Ron had no idea why he just said that in a blathering idiotic way. He figured it must have had something to do with the way his head was still spinning.

"Convinced him to appoint me lead Auror on the Immortal investigation. Then I had him agree to take a long International trip until they've all been arrested."

"Percy, Harry, this reminds me we need to assign two of our own to provide security for him. Continue on Ronald," Kingsley requested as Harry looked none too pleased at the request.

"Then I came back here and talked with both of you. Did I not tell you this before?" Ron asked.

"Yes Ron. Then I told you where Courcoue, France was located." Percy stated as a matter of fact, as if he was expecting Ron to agree with him.

Oddly, Ron couldn't recall anything about Courcoue. "Where is Courcoue?"

Percy rolled his eyes before he almost shouted at him, "Middle of France, about three hundred kilometers southwest of Paris. I told you this… several times. You went there right after I helped you with all the required ministry paperwork for an International Portkey."

"Oh right," replied Ron, although he couldn't remember a bit of it.

"I met a nice French lady about a muggle estate sale for a Mr. Francois Ayrault. He died suddenly. I think he was murdered. Then I went to his… "

Ron's head started to spin again. He felt like his entire head was throbbing.

"What else did you do, Ron?" Kingsley urgently asked.

"I… I tossed a gnome." Ron strained his head to remember something.

Harry finally spoke up, "The _Fidelius_ charm. He was checking to see if a place had the _Fidelius_ charm."

Kingsley nodded in agreement with what Harry had said, as Ron looked on rather dumbfounded.

"Percy, find out what we can about this Francois Ayrault of Courcoue. His address maybe unplottable, but I'm willing to guess that his muggle tax records won't be; the bigger the property, the greater the property taxes. It also might help us to narrow the area of where his property is located. Quite often barns are on the property tax roll and aren't covered under the _Fidelius_ charm."

"I… I… saw a vineyard. I… I forgot…" Ron stammered, his head now hammering in pain.

"Vineyards will have sold the grapes or made its own wines on site. We can check with the local wine makers and wine distributors to see if they ever bought any wine or grapes from this Francois Ayrault."

"I'll work on the muggle tax records to find any property he held." Percy proudly responded, as if he would do anything the Minister asked him to do.

Harry finally spoke up. "Seeing as I can't go to France, I'll have Gerard and the Order to search for any wine or grape sales."

Ron watched speechless as Kingsley nodded in agreement. He then turned his attention to Ron, pointed at him and said to Harry, "You might want to take Ron over to the Leaky Cauldron first. Looks like he could use a pint."

Ron, drooling a little bit down his chin, thought Kingsley was a nice bloke.

"Come on, Ron." Harry barked, as he lifted him, none too gently, off the Minister's chair.

Ron could sense Harry was mad at him, but he couldn't remember why.

"Harry, are you sore at me?"

"Shut up, Ron!" Harry muttered, and he unceremoniously marched him out of the Minister's office.

:::

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><p>"Thank Merlin for Firewhiskey. My brain has finally stopped… spinning," Ron celebrated the medicinal value of drinking spirits.<p>

Harry only grunted in response as he took another hit of Firewhiskey.

"What's got you in a hot cauldron?" Ron asked Harry.

Impulsively, Harry snarled at him before he even answered his question. "That would be you, Ron… as always. Either Hermione is on me about you, Kingsley is on me, Professor McGonagall, your Mum, Ginny, and now this morning you can add Mrs. Malfoy."

"What the bloody hell does she want?" Ron asked.

"She's upset that Ginny and I are purposefully trying to ruin Draco and what's her name's wedding," Harry explained rather frustratingly. "What is her name again?"

"Who?"

"The dumb one about to marry Draco?"

"Astoria, Daphne's younger sister," Ron answered Harry.

"Yeah, that's her. Mrs. Malfoy thinks that all this press about my wedding will ruin their wedding," Harry explained in an irritated voice.

"So what's the problem?" snapped Ron. Because he knew that Harry, like himself, didn't care a flobberworm about Draco's wedding or the Malfoy family.

"Your investigation is what. I couldn't tell her to piss off. She'd tell what she knows to the press. I had to tell her our announcement was completely unplanned and that-"

Harry paused to gulp the rest of his firewhiskey before saying anything else.

Harry looked as if he was going to be sick as he continued, "We would all come to their wedding. With gifts!"

"**WHAT?**" Ron yelled, at the top of his lungs. "You're out of your bloody mind if you think I'm going to that ferret's wedding."

Harry's face changed from disgust to pure murderous anger. "You're going if I have to arrest you. No way, am I doing this alone. This was **your** plan from the beginning."

"**How is this my plan, Harry?** I never told you to agree to go to their stupid wedding. Bloody hell, if you had let me arrest Mrs. Malfoy in the first place, **there wouldn't be a bloody wedding!**" Ron argued. "I told you we were going to regret it."

"I'd be careful about you telling me what to regret!" Harry snapped back at him, implying his best friend was a liability.

Ron felt guilty and a bit angry, but thought it wise not to upset Harry anymore on the subject.

After a minute of silence between them, Harry sighed and then politely asked a question. "Have you talked to Hermione yet?"

Ron seemed shell-shocked with Harry's loaded question. "What… pffft… talk?"

"Yes – talk!"

"Who can talk to her? I can't even say hello to her without it being drama."

"You got to try, Ron."

"I did Harry. She refused to talk to me. I was even amazed she came back to the Ministry and then down to the training room."

Suddenly a puzzled expression came over Harry's face and he inquired. "Ron, how did you do that? The fire and the floor? They haven't been able to keep it extinguished for more than a minute."

Ron groaned. He had sworn to Dumbledore that he wouldn't talk about it, even with his best friend. "I… I… you know me. I learned that spell from Hermione. Where else would I learn that?"

Ron exhaled a little as he figured that lie would work with Harry.

Unfortunately, it didn't. "Hermione said she had no idea how you did it. She's been trying to extinguish the fires since yesterday."

Ron knew that Harry knew he was lying and holding something back. He decided he should tell Harry the why.

"I can't say. I've been sworn to secrecy… from you and especially Hermione. It's for your own good."

"Who did you swear to?" Harry demanded.

"Professor Dumbledore." Ron stated. Ron finished leaving a suspicious Harry nowhere to go from that point on.

After another minute of silence, Ron spoke up first. "Why were you asking me about Hermione?"

"Nothing – it's a secret. I'm sworn to secrecy and it's for your own good Ron." Harry grinned, as he replied.

Ron was not amused. "Funny Harry, really funny. Almost like the diamond ring you bought my sister. What was that, a princess cut? I didn't realize my soon to be brother-in-law was whipped before he even got married."

Harry's face showed pure anger as Ron twisted the knife a bit deeper.

"Looks to me like it was the first big diamond you saw when you walked into the store. Or better yet, you probably bought it from an advertisement in Witch Weekly and got a free sample of wart remover included in your order," Ron smirked at him.

Harry, being his best friend, knew his every weak spot and quickly retaliated.

"Bring a date to the wedding Ron. Hermione will most likely bring Derrick and it would look rather pathetic if you came alone."

"You bloody…" Ron flew across the table, tackled Harry, dragged him to the floor where the punches started to fly and didn't stop until Neville magically separated the both of them.

:::

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><p><strong>AN:** Review, review, review!


	25. Chapter 25: Bright lights of Paris

**Author's Arrogant Rant:** To all those reviewers who swore they stop reading or wouldn't read anymore till I'm finished - **SHUT UP!** If you are reading this, as this is the latest and greatest chapter… _and I'm not finished_, then you need to finally admit the truth. **You're reading a pretty good story**.

Not like there aren't other good stories out there for you to invest your time with… tons of them in fact. I must be doing something right because it sure isn't my grammar skills that bring you back. Take the last chapter where I wrote a few amusing visual sentences, like Ron "_drooling," _or the Garden Gnome was "_pancaked looking_." Now, I could've used other words, but I chose those silly descriptions for the funny imagery in your head. _That's right - I'm in your head_. Don't believe me? You just read, "_pancaked"_ and now you're thinking that you're hungry for pancakes… with syrup and butter on top of a tall stack of hot, sweet tasting pancakes. You can almost taste the syrup dripping pancake on the end of your fork as you are about to…

_It's scary how good I am._

With this story all I had to do was add a bit of intrigue that keeps everyone guessing, a lot of romantic angst that makes you solicit for resolution, a dash of wizard dueling action, a smidge of murdering and conspiracy suspense, and you got a Neville size cauldron explosion about to happen. The question is – when?

Psst… come closer, closer to the screen... closer.

Now read this:

The when is when I decide when and we both know you'll be there reading it when it happens.

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><p><strong>Beta's Note: <strong>Like any fully realized story, the romance is not the only thing that is going on here. Don't get too caught up in trying to will Ron and Hermione back together. You might miss the twists and turns. Alfred Hitchcock was known as the master of suspense. It was said that his films always had a murder and a love affair. Not only that, but they were interrelated. The difference between the two was that a murder was permanent. While this is a bit contrived, the point is that you watch those films for both plots, not just the romance. So, no, Hermione is not in this chapter, but Ron is kind of trying to save the world. Or at least figure out this Immortal business. That should kind of demand some of your attention. Otherwise, just go read a romance novel and change all the names to "Ron" and "Hermione."

:::

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><p><strong>Chapter 25 – Bright lights of Paris<strong>

"What else did you say to her?"

"I… I might've said that you loved her and then pointed out or mentioned… I'm a little bit fuzzy on the exact details," Ron said, as he explained the previous conversation he had with Headmistress McGonagall.

"Get unfuzzy and spit it out," barked Gerard MacKay, as he scowled at Ron.

"That… women like her… and Hermione never appreciate men like us… for loving them," Ron nervously explained.

Gerard still seemed eager to hex him. "Then what?"

"Well, she yelled at me to get out. Oh wait, she told me to move on then she tossed me out." Ron remembered that part quite clearly.

"Did you say anything else to her? Something that would make her angry enough to send me a howler?" Gerard impatiently inquired.

Ron started to remember his last words and realized what Gerard was fishing for.

"I… I think I said something to the effect that she had pretended how useless we were in order to upgrade to a better job as Headmistress. Then she tossed me out. She definitely has a bit of an anger control issue. Hermione is the same way," Ron added, without mentioning how sharp his wit and tongue was during that meeting.

Gerard grunted in acknowledgement, as he pointed toward his office at the back of the bar. Ron followed as Gerard made his way through the bar, opened the door and motioned for Ron to enter. As he took the first chair in front of Gerard's desk, he immediately noticed a bottle of French wine sitting on the top of the broad oak desk.

"Never fall in love Weasley. You'll be a happier man if you don't," Gerard stated, as he picked up his wastebasket and revealed the torn up pieces of a howler letter.

Ron's heartbroken heart demanded a drink to dull it in some way. Impulsively, he reached across the desk and grabbed the wine bottle. He unscrewed the top and without so much as a, _'please may I_' to Gerard, he took a large swig from the bottle…and then spit it out just as quickly. It tasted completely sour and bitter, like it had gone to waste in a wine cellar somewhere.

"Blaugh, what the bloody hell is this?" Ron sputtered, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

"Vinegar!" Gerard stated as a matter of fact. "Next time, ask a man if you can drink his bottle, Weasley!" Gerard reached across his desk and pulled the bottle out of his hands. "What did you think it was... wine?"

"It looked like it was a French bottle of wine. It has a golden label with fancy French writing on it," Ron stated, as he continued to wipe his mouth.

"What French wine do you drink that has to be unscrewed? We use corks for wine you idiot."

Ron scowled while Gerard showed the bottle label to him.

"It's wine vinegar from the Ayrault vineyards. The very same Francois Ayrault who was murdered a few weeks ago outside of Courcoue," Gerard said meaningfully.

Ron nodded even though he knew the information didn't really help. After all, the ministry had a pretty good idea where Umbridge was hiding and even if they knew exactly where she was, it still wouldn't help them enter a house with a _Fidelius_ charm cast on it. For that, they would need the Secret Keeper.

The question of the Secret Keeper brought out his thoughts. "If only we can figure out who the Secret Keeper is or why in the bloody hell he or she would bother to protect her."

Gerard nodded, signaling that he was at a loss as well.

Ron thought it best to sound out his questions and lack of progress on the case.

"I know they helped her escape and I'm pretty sure who did it, but I really don't know for what purpose. Why not bloody kill her and be done with it? They kill everyone else, the newspaper editor, the farmers who have no living relatives, several families… for what purpose?"

Gerard offered a question. "Is she a powerful witch… or is she rich?"

Ron scoffed as he answered, "On a Ministry salary – ha. And she's a mediocre witch at best. Her only talent is she is a bureaucratic arse-kisser. Kingsley called her a sycophant tyrant when she worked at the Ministry."

Gerard nodded and concluded, "She has to serve a useful purpose for them, especially after the investigation became official in this morning's paper."

Gerard magically levitated a French magical newspaper over to him.

:::

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><p>"Président Hollande autorise une enquête indépendante sur la découverte et l'arrestation du groupe terroriste connu sous le nom des Immortels. L'enquête doit être menée par le célèbre British Weasley Ron Auror. Directeur de la Justice Monsieur Delacour n'a pas pu être joint pour un commentaire."<p>

_Président Hollande authorizes an independent investigation on the discovery and arrest of the terrorist group known as the Immortals. The investigation is to be led by famed British Auror Ron Weasley. Director of Justice Monsieur Delacour could not be reached for comment._

:::

* * *

><p>"Right now, I would be less concerned about them killing Umbridge and more concerned about them trying to kill you," Gerard warned him.<p>

Ron smiled back at Gerard as he joked, "I'm just happy they spelled my name right. Odd how they can do it here and not in Britain."

"Yes, we'll be sure to have a Frenchmen spell your name on your tombstone," Gerard quipped.

:::

* * *

><p>Now that Ron was leading the investigation, he had the responsibility of keeping up appearances by checking in at the French Ministry. Otherwise, greater suspicions would fall upon him and his movements.<p>

When he crossed the bridge over the underground Seine River and entered the opulent Ministry building, he had the unmistakable feeling that he was being watched and followed. Giving him an even more eerie feeling was that he quickly noticed all the French ministry employees walking through the lobby changed their path away from him as soon as they noticed him. Their conversations would abruptly pause and they'd quickly glanced away from him as he approached. It wasn't until he reached his office on the third floor did he finally receive an acknowledgement.

"Good Morning, Ronald."

Ron smiled in reply at the seductive Miss Poesy, who was waiting for him outside of his office and carrying a stack of pink colored parchments.

"I haz a lot of paperwork for you this morning," Miss Posey warned him, as she handed the stack of paperwork over to him.

Ron outwardly groaned even though he was inwardly rejoicing at seeing the sexy secretary again. She had a very sweet smile around the most kissable lips he had ever seen. Moreover, the crimson red lipstick she wore begged for even the most loyal of boyfriends to wager a blissful turn at infidelity. It was causing his mind to race at creating an opportunity to do just that.

"These are the new ministry regulations from zee President's office," Miss Posey said as she strutted into his office and then stopped abruptly and looked about the small room. "Hmm… you should buy a plant for your office."

"What?" Ron asked, as he stopped staring at her kissable lips because he realized that they were moving and forming words.

"A plant. You should buy a plant. This office needs some color, don't you agree?"

Truthfully, the only thing he wanted in his office was her bent over his desk. Of course that wasn't something he would ever say out loud, no matter how badly he wanted it.

"Yeah… I mean yes, you're right. A plant would be nice," Ron stammered, as he looked at his plain government desk, waste paper basket, wooden chair, and beige painted walls that made up his office.

"I know someone from landscaping that could help you find something. Would that be okay, Mr. Weasley?" Miss Posey offered, but in a formal tone as if she were subordinate to him.

"Ron," blurted Ron. "It's Ron, Ron Weasley. I'm not your boss or anything."

Miss Posey looked at him rather curiously, but continued to say nothing as Ron filled the silence between them.

"I… I'm just like you, you know, an underpaid ministry employee. You work for Mr. Delacour and I work for the British as a Liaison. We could even date and kiss… and it wouldn't be a problem. Not even an international one."

"_Bugger, did I just say that out loud? Weasley you are such a stupid git." _Ron thought to himself, realizing that he just exposed his inner most desire.

Ron cautiously looked at Miss Posey who wasn't saying anything. In fact, she had a look on her face that said she was thinking about what he said.

Ron felt a jump of bravery rise up in him as he offered, "I saw this really nice outdoor café not too far from here. A glass of wine after work, some funny conversation about how the Ministry doesn't pay us enough."

Ron left it open-ended as he waited for her reply.

Miss Posey tilted her head rather playfully and after what seemed like an eternity to Ron, she smiled warmly at him.

"I'm Clémence**. **Ms. Posey is my mother and do I look 46 to you?"

Ron's heart rejoiced in celebration before he quipped, "I'm just happy that you're seventeen. Any younger and I would be under arrest."

"You're a poor liar, Ronald. I am not seventeen." Clémence playfully replied to his obvious flirting.

"Really? You look too young to be eighteen."

Clémence giggled like a young schoolgirl, even though the joke was not all that funny. She reached into her tight wool skirt and magically expanded a long beautiful peacock quill and a blank parchment.

"You can pick me up at eight. Don't be late or I'll never date an Auror or a Liaison ever again."

With that, she scribbled down her address, placed it on his desk and swiftly left his office. Ron could hear her giggling happily down the hallway.

Ron smiled at the parchment then remembered what Harry had taunted him with. He would show up to Harry and Ginny's wedding with a sexy Clémence on his arm

"_I won't be the pathetic one. That will be the bookworm and her so-called boyfriend."_

:::

* * *

><p>"We rode the dragon straight out of Gringotts, flew over the Muggle parliament, out of London straight toward Wales," Ron boasted to a wide-eyed, giggling Clémence Posey on their date at an outside café in Paris.<p>

"How did you ever get away?" Clémence begged to know while she held onto her wine glass in one hand and reached out to touch Ron's hand with the other.

"The goblins or the dragon?" Ron asked

"The dragon silly," Clémence asked, as she took another sip of her red wine.

"Oh, well he flew down to drink some water from a lake and we jumped off. You know to this day, we have no idea where that dragon is - true story."

"Ha-ha," laughed Clémence in such a way that suggested to Ron she was enjoying the wine more than his stories. "How do the uptight British lose a dragon? Ha-ha."

He had a feeling he could tell a story about flobberworms and she would find it funny and interesting.

"Well he's probably hiding in plain sight in Ireland. You'd never know he was there, what with the Irish looking a bit dodgy to begin with. Besides if anyone in Ireland spotted him, they'd rightly assume they were too pissed to see straight."

"Ha-ha-ha," Clémence laughed again while she poured more wine into her empty glass.

"Oh Ron, you haz no idea how bad I needed this," Clémence declared, as she finished the wine in the bottle and motioned for the garson to get another.

"Bad day at work?" inquired Ron.

"Oui, this impossible new woman in the President's office. Did you see all those new regulations? We had to make thousands and thousands of pink copies and to make matters worse, her clothes were full of cat hair. I'm deathly allergic to cats."

Ron's head snapped up sharply at what Clémence had just said.

"Cats?"

"Oui. She even has pictures of them all over the walls. I couldn't stop sneezing-"

Ron interrupted her because he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What does she look like? I mean does she have a name?"

"Of course she has a name, Ronald, everyone has a name silly," Clémence retorted, as she poured another glass of wine and took a long swallow.

Ron said nothing while he quietly waited for her to finish drinking.

"Her name is Madam Selwyn from Corsica. Monsieur highly recommended her for the position."

"Bloody hell!" Ron realized how much of an idiot he was. "Corsica my arse."

He had been searching for a woman that was right under his nose, in the same building even.

"Is there something wrong… did I say something?" Clémence asked, a bit worried at Ron's expression.

"No, no… I was just thinking, I know this woman," Ron replied, then faked a smile at Clémence to reassure her that everything was okay.

"Oh, how well do you know women, Ronald?" Clémence asked seductively, as she ran her finger along the top of her wine glass.

He was sure his face was turning red as he answered truthfully. "I know a few. One mainly, but that didn't end well."

"Did she break your heart?"

"Yes, yes she did."

"Good."

Ron was immediately confused and said as much. "What do you mean good? How can that possibly be good?"

Clémence stood up and swept over to where he was sitting then she playfully whispered into his ear.

"It means you are eager to find someone that will truly love you… to make your heart whole again."

Ron was the one now drinking as he gulped down a glass of firewhiskey.

:::

* * *

><p>It started off relatively simple and easy. There was the hand holding around the muggle shops, the constant sideways glances between them, the innocent touching and petting for whatever semi-acceptable reason. Ron would have his hand on the small of Clémence's back as he would open doors for her and she in turn would rest her head on his shoulder and sigh contently as they traveled by muggle cab to various landmarks throughout the city. By midnight with nothing but the lights of Paris noticing them, it turned to even more touching. He would hug her for body warmth whenever she told him she felt cold while she would find her hands absent-mindedly stroking his red hair or his chest. To his own amazement he found out that she was the one leading him back to his apartment. He hadn't even dared to offer for fear of ruining an incredible night and yet she insisted on it.<p>

Clémence was clearly nothing like he had ever experienced before. She was breathtakingly beautiful and confident of what she wanted. It didn't matter what he wanted or didn't want. Clémence was going to have her way and tonight, that was him.

For the first time in a long, long time that Ron could remember a woman, a beautiful confident woman didn't view making love to him as an act of being in a relationship, or hormonal lust. She wanted him… Ron Weasley, goofy red hair, bloodshot red face, freckles, and more battle scars than he care to count. She wanted him and to Ron, as he watched as Clémence was taking off his shirt and kissing his chest, it felt undeniably wonderful that someone actually wanted him. Hermione wanted him at times and at times not. Either way he felt that Hermione could live her life completely without him. Gabrielle on the other hand had wanted a night of passion. Then there was Lavender who wanted the elevated status of having a boyfriend on the house Quidditch team.

Clémence, however, wanted Ron Weasley, not the not-so-famous sidekick, or the British Liaison, or even the Auror. She wanted to make love to him because she wanted and needed him. The mere impulse of wanting to be needed and being appreciated for it had swept away whatever hesitation he held as he lifted her up and protectively carried her to his bedroom.

Ron slowly kissed her lips, her chin, as he deftly unbuttoned her shirt with one hand. His other hand was way too busy with squeezing her plump breast. By the time, he had completely unbuttoned her shirt he continued on his journey by kissing her cleavage and stopping at the barricade of her lacy bra. She was keenly aware of his halt in movement and arched her back up to remove her own bra.

Ron got there first with his right hand and unfastened the lacy bra from the back.

"One hand, hmmm." Clémence moaned in approval.

Ron said nothing as he confidently released Clémence's breast from the restrictive C-cup holders. They were free to welcome his hands and lips smothered on top of them. Her nipples that were once flat and little stood out as erections for his tongue that circled them. He closed his mouth and with great pressure sucked on them as Clémence gripped his back with her hands in tightened ecstasy. The deeper her fingernails dug into his back the stronger he sucked and licked. Her sweet moan of surrender was all he needed to release her and continue his kissing path down her stomach to her black wool skirt.

Unlike the bra, it was Clémence that wanted to be the one that took it off her. She pushed Ron to the side and swiftly arched her arse in the air to unzip her skirt from behind. He had only to assist at moving the skirt down her long beautiful legs and toss it to where he did not know. He was more focused on the sexy thigh high stockings that showcased their stunning beauty of her legs. He pointedly kissed each leg and thigh as she settled flatly on the bed for him to continue.

Continue he did as he reached the center of her body with kisses. If he had gotten lost, Clémence's hands through his red hair were pushing him down on the very spot where his lips were needed. He kissed, he licked, he drove his tongue deep, and he licked some more in changing patterns depending on the moans and pleas that she gave. He was forced to stop when she pleaded in surrender.

"Now! I can't wait any longer."

Ron un-belt his pants, threw off his boxers and steeled himself with determination to be the best lover this woman had ever had. He slowly moved inside her till she could take no more of him. Now he was the one arching his back as he slowly slid outward and inward.

"Faster," Clémence pleaded.

He responded immediately because Clémence was going to have her way no matter how late the night and morning was or how long it took. She was getting the best of Ron Weasley.

:::

* * *

><p>Ron was resting again to build the needed stamina for another round when he saw a flashing crimson and gold light outside of his apartment followed by a loud voice that sang.<p>

_**Weasley is our King,**_

_**Weasley is our King,**_

_**He didn't let the Quaffle in**_

_**Weasley is our King.**_

_**Weasley can save anything,**_

_**He never leaves a single ring,**_

_**That's why Gryffindors all sing:**_

_**Weasley is our King.**_

"What is that?" a naked Clémence asked, as she grabbed the bed sheets to cover herself.

"It's the wards I put up. **Get dressed!**" Ron shouted, while he grabbed his wand from the nightstand, jumped out of bed and made a naked dash to the bedroom window.

Outside in his courtyard he could see a group of four masked men. Two of them were shooting various spells in the sky at his remaining wards while the other two were breaking off to head around back. Each of the masked men wore a long black coat and black-feathered cocked hat embroidered with golden-green leafy motifs. Ron thought it was an odd look. It really didn't bring a lot of fear into him or anyone else for that matter. If they weren't busy taking down his wards, he would have told them to go back to the theater district where they belonged.

"Who are they?" Clemence asked, as she got out of bed and frantically slipped on her black lace panties from off the floor.

"My guess, a bunch of lousy thespians," Ron wisecracked, as he raced back to the bed to put on his boxers from off the floor.

Clémence was now frantically looked for her discarded lace bra on the floor while Ron quickly grabbed his Auror robes.

"No way will we be able to Apparate out of here. Let's go!" Ron shouted, knowing it was only a matter of seconds before they trapped him in his apartment.

"My bra," whined Clémence, but Ron grabbed her by the arm and dragged her toward the side window facing the streets.

"Here, wear my robe," Ron answered, as he stopped at his unpacked suitcase.

"Merlin, I wanted to use this on Harry again."

Ron reached in his suitcase to grab his last Demon Dung cracker and magically shot it out into the courtyard, directly at his attackers.

**CRACK!**

"Go," pleaded Ron, then he pushed a nearly naked Clémence out of his bedroom window.

He quickly followed knowing the Dung cracker would only buy them a few seconds. Immediately, one of his attackers that had been headed around the back of his apartment building spotted him and screamed at the others.

"**He's on the street!**"

Ron swiftly hit him in the chest with a SilencingCharm followed by a Sponge Knees curse that sent him straight to the ground and completely unable to stand up or follow them. He promptly grabbed a frightened Clémence by the hand and made tracks for the muggle sections of Paris. With any luck, they'd be able to get far enough away to properly Apparate to safety.

:::

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><p><strong>AN:** _Didn't expect that now did you?_ _REVIEW or I'll give you headaches. _


	26. Chapter 26: You're not French

**Author's Rant: **I am delighted that my old readers from DH see what I'm trying to accomplish.

However, my new readers… you don't have a clue! Which is good, because I like originality and a good story versus the mundane simple and overused plots. _Honestly, if I happen to see a "new" Pureblood marriage law fanfic - I'm going to hurl slugs._ I love how some of you new readers try to paint me as Hermione bashing because Ron had sex with anyone other than Hermione during a breakup.

Also new readers, stop trying to guess the outcome of this story. You've been wrong from the beginning and you continue to be wrong about guessing what's going to happen next. For example, some of you think I'm going to write about a wedding where Ron shows up with someone else that he taunts Hermione with.

**No. **

Not in my plot, not in my outline, not even related to the story. You have to remember that this story is from Ron's **P**oint **O**f **V**iew. He doesn't know what Hermione is thinking or doing, especially as it relates to him. He certainly doesn't know what the status of Hermione and Derrick's relationship is right now. That's a realistic approach to breakups and relationships. Guys get dumped and sometimes we don't have a clue… at least for a good bit of time until we sort it out.

As for the dialog about Harry and Ginny's wedding and Draco's wedding, those are nothing but historical conversations. They happen at point of time in Ron's life that he would have these talks with Harry or even himself. They have very little to do with the investigation, his current love life, his feelings for Harry, his true feelings for Hermione, my story, my climax, my ending, etc.

"_Always keep them guessing," William Faulkner._ Wait… this is a Harry Potter fanfic. Stop guessing. I'll let you know how it ends. Ron marries Hermione and has two kids named Rose and Hugo. Happy?

* * *

><p><strong>Beta's Note: <strong>Let me just echo the sentiment that you do not know what Hermione is thinking at all during this fic. That is because it is about Ron and his journey back to Hermione. He does not know what she is thinking and that is the point. Ron has gotten really down in the dumps and has been not noticing plenty of things. His cluelessness is translating itself into the story. Because that is how it should be. Don't be so silly, readers!

:::

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><p><strong>Chapter 26 – "You're not French"<strong>

"Harry!**"**

Ron was tired, hungry, and half-naked as he briskly made his way to Harry's bedroom in his house in Godric's Hollow. He had just dropped Clémence at her mother's house and Apparated to a place he knew he could get some clothes.

"Harry, wakeup!" Ron shouted. He opened Harry's bedroom door and got an eyeful of a panting and sweating Harry rolling off a just as heavily panting and sweating Ginny. "Oh for the love of Merlin – it's after four in the morning!"

"**Ron**!" yelled an angry and embarrassed Ginny, as she quickly covered herself with the bed sheets.

"**Ron, what are you doing here?**" Harry shouted at him, as he reached for his boxers.

"Who has sex after four in the morning?" Ron asked, attempting to defend his intrusion and hide his embarrassment as he covered his eyes with his hand.

Harry on the other hand wasn't embarrassed in the least. "I do," he answered calmly. "In my own house, with my own fiancée."

"I think I'm going to be blind," Ron complained, as his stomach rolled in disgust.

"I can make that permanent," threatened Ginny from the bed. "Now get out!"

"I just need some clothes," Ron said. He pointedly averted his eyes her and walked over to Harry's dresser, opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of jeans.

"Where are your clothes?" Harry demanded to know.

"At my flat in Paris. The Immortals attacked us tonight and we barely made it out," Ron explained, as he walked into Harry's closet and grabbed a shirt off a hanger.

It didn't escape his notice that Ginny's clothes made up over eighty percent of Harry's closet.

"You have a place in Paris?" Ginny inquired, but with a surprised tone that made Ron a bit worried.

"Yes and it's mine," Ron stated to his sister, as if she had asked about coming for a visit.

"It's the Ministry's," Harry correctly pointed out. "I thought the plan was, they wouldn't try to kill you if I stayed away."

Ron groaned a bit before he wisecracked, "I guess they weren't in on my plan, Harry. Next time, I'll be sure to clear it with them first. Sort of like you telling Rabastan Lestrange we're going to attack on three."

Ginny was not the least bit interested in his discussion with Harry and asked something else. "How far is your place from all the fashion stores and those romantic cafés… oh, and the art galleries?"

Ron ignored Ginny's curiosity and instead busied himself by trying to get into Harry's jeans. It was bloody impossible. They were way too short and skinny for him.

"How can you be this skinny?" Ron griped, as he used his wand to magically enlarge them.

"I don't eat like a troll," Harry replied, as he grabbed a robe from the foot of the bed and put it on.

Ron stomach growled a bit after Harry said, eat. "Speaking of which, you have anything to eat?"

"How many rooms does it have?" Ginny asked, as she too slipped into a robe.

:::

* * *

><p>"Ha-ha-ha… wow," Harry chuckled, as he read the recently delivered Daily Prophet.<p>

"What?" Ron asked, as he levitated his empty breakfast plate to the kitchen sink.

"Ginny, take a look," a grinning Harry requested to Ginny as he ignored Ron's question.

"Please tell me it's not about the Malfoy wedding," Ginny pleaded, as she walked around the table and sat on Harry's lap so she could read the paper.

"It's not," Harry declared, then, looked over at Ron with a knowing smile.

"Don Westley… French investigation… young half-dressed lady… streets of muggle Paris… oh my merlin, she doesn't even have a bra on. Ron, how could you?!"

"Bloody hell," Ron groaned, as he looked over at a disappointed and accusing Ginny and a proud but smirking Harry.

Ron's memory flashed back to only a few hours ago when he was escaping through the muggle streets of Paris holding hands with Clémence. She was wearing nothing but his Auror robe and her lacy panties. He had, to this very second, forgotten that he had seen someone take a flash picture of them as they ran by. He had hoped it was just a randy tourist and didn't think any more of it until Harry showed him the picture.

"Who is she?" Ginny demanded.

"None of your business," snapped Ron, refusing to tell her what happened before they were attacked by the Immortals.

"It looks like it's everyone's business now," Harry remarked,then held up the Daily Prophet and showed Ron the headline story. Under the bold print of, **"Don Westley Running Wild in Paris,"** was a picture of him wearing nothing but his boxers and Clémence flashing her breast as they ran away.

"That's some kind of investigation you're doing there Ron," Harry joked, as he tossed Ron the paper.

"Shut up, Harry."

Harry, as always, refused to listen to Ron's advice and continued on with his barbs.

"Maybe, if we dress up Umbridge in some French stockings - you'll spend some time finding her."

Ron spoke up without thinking to defend himself, "I already know where she is. She's working in the President's office."

Harry swiftly stood up, launching a surprised Ginny off his lap.

"Oooof," groaned Ginny, as she unceremoniously landed on her arse in the kitchen floor.

"**You know where?! Why in the hell didn't you arrest her?" **Harry yelled.

Ron snapped back, as he mentally kicked himself for being so stupid to tell Harry about Umbridge. "I just found out tonight. I still need to verify it and then do some surveillance on her, so I can find out what the Immortals are up to."

"Arrest her and bring her in!"

"Not until I get some answers, Harry."

"**Bring her in – that's an order!**" Harry snapped, as he used his higher rank of Senior Auror against him.

Ron didn't like Harry's tone or his pulling rank on him. They were best mates and equals. To Ron, it didn't matter who was Senior Auror. He was in charge of the investigation and no one**, **not even 'the Chosen One,' could tell him how to run **his** investigation.

"**It's my investigation not yours! Don't you ever order me-**"

"**Ron! Harry!**" Ginny shouted at them, after she stood up and waved for them to settle down.

After a brief pause and a scowl at one another, Harry took his seat and Ron angrily took his.

Ginny being the voice of reason broke the silence. "Harry, ever since Umbridge escaped you haven't been yourself."

"I'm just trying to do my job unlike somebody else." Harry replied, looking a bit wounded at what Ginny had just said to him.

Ron instantly retorted, "It's not your job, it's mine. You were ordered to stay away, Mr. Senior Auror."

"Ron!" Ginny had to shout again to regain control. "You haven't been much better. Ever since Harry was promoted and Hermione broke up with you - you've been a miserable git."

"Yeah, and who do I have to thank for that?" Ron spit out.

"I had nothing to do with Hermione dating Derrick and I'm certainly not to blame for my being promoted. You want to be Senior Auror? Fine. You can take the position and I'll do the investigation," Harry countered back angrily.

"Harry," Ginny continued, "We need to let Ron run his own investigation. I know he has his reasons."

"There's absolutely no good reason why Umbridge should be left free to hurt..." Harry stopped speaking, as he looked at the back of his hand at the scar Umbridge had forced on him while he was at Hogwarts.

"Ron, find out what they're doing and then take her straight to Azkaban - where she belongs. Harry and I will help out anyway we can," Ginny confirmed, as if she outranked the both of them. "Now the two of you need to shake hands. You love each other like brothers and it won't be much longer until you'll be officially related."

Neither Ron nor Harry moved.

"Now," Ginny growled.

After staring at one another, they reluctantly shook hands.

"Good! Now I have to go warn Hermione before she has kittens."

"Warn her about what?" Ron inquired, completely confused.

"Boys," groaned Ginny, before she Apparated away.

:::

* * *

><p>One of the hardest parts about being an Auror besides the low pay, the long hours, the distant travels to far off and unpleasant locations, the endless amount of Ministry paperwork, the total lack of appreciation and respect from others, the missed promotions, and the overall lack of safety while dodging one killing curse after another, was the mundane surveillance duty. Right now, Ron was watching a dark haired, plump woman dressed in a pink French aristocratic type dress, bellowing about the unprofessionalism of the staff for failing to bring her a copy of a report. That in and of itself wasn't exciting except for the fact that the bossy short woman should instead be in the deepest darkest cell in Azkaban.<p>

"Bloody toad," Ron softly griped, as he hid outside in the hallway, listening to what was said inside the Presidential staff offices.

"She's _in plain sight all day and she only dyed her hair black. Like it doesn't even matter that I work in the same building,_" Ron thought, as he marveled at how bold she was just because she was under the protection of the Immortals.

"Clearly this office is in disarray. The departmental progress reports are late…Clarice, you were two minutes late for work today… Oh Clarice, I don't care what your selfish reason was…You all know our dear and beloved Deputy President is feeling gravely ill and unable to come to work. May I remind all of you that the magical citizens of France are looking toward us for confident and reassuring leadership during these times of uncertainty? Unfortunately, this office doesn't even know the President's personal itinerary. Anna, do we even know where our President is going next?"

Ron smirked because he knew that she wasn't ever going to know where the president was. He gave strict advice to him not to tell anyone where he was going and when he was coming back.

"No Madam. The President hasn't returned any of my International Owls."

"I see."

Ron genuinely smiled because finally something was going as planned.

"By the time I get back from the executive committee meeting, I expect to see better results from all of you."

Ron could now hear her tromping loudly towards the door and realized that in about ten seconds she'd be in the hallway right where he was standing. Quickly, he scanned the hallway in both directions, looking for a place to hide. About two meters away was a broom cupboard the French Ministry elves used to store mops and brooms. It would be a bit small and tight, but there was no time to hide using a Concealment Charm. He swiftly opened the door and jumped inside crashing against the mops and a very familiar body wrapped in an invisibility cloak.

"Harr..." Ron didn't get to finish saying, as one hand appeared out of nowhere forcibly pressing his mouth shut.

The other hand appeared from underneath the invisibility cloak and shut the door behind him as he heard Umbridge in the hallway.

"After I finish with this meeting, we are going to have to go over the staff personnel records. Clearly, a good many of them need to be reassigned and others I'm afraid, termination is the only choice."

"Oui, Madam Selwyn," a squeaky voice replied.

Ron said nothing, as he waited in the cramped cupboard for the sound of Umbridge's voice to leave.

When he was sure that Umbridge was gone he turned to the invisible figure behind him and whispered angrily, "Harry, this is my investigation!"

"I know it is… you keep reminding me!" Harry growled back to him in a low whisper.

"Then what are you doing here?"

"I… I, no one can see me."

"I didn't ask you that," retorted Ron, pushing Harry back to get some personal space.

"Is that my broomstick?" Harry demanded, as he could no doubt feel it inside Ron's Auror robe.

"No," Ron immediately lied.

"Yes it is. I haven't even ridden it yet."

Harry was now reaching inside Ron's robe, determined to get his broom back. In the process, he touched Ron's pair of Magical Auror cuffs that were now snapping and rattling to arrest someone.

"No, Harry, not now."

"Ron, I want it right now!"

The cupboard door suddenly opened and a wide-eyed French elf was greeted with the sight of them wrestling inside the small space with a pair of handcuffs. Ron completely froze as he stared at the elf that looked back at them with equal amounts of surprise and disgust. Harry on the other hand didn't even bother to be embarrassed as he reached deeper into Ron's robe then exclaimed, "I got it!"

Straightaway, the elf closed the cupboard door just before Harry pulled out his broom from Ron's robe pocket.

"Bloody hell," Ron griped because he realized the implication of the elf passing along his sighting of seeing him in the cupboard with another man.

"There are scratches on it and it looks like you completely wore it out."

"Shut up, Harry."

Before Harry could say anything else that would be misinterpreted by someone passing by, a new voice resonated throughout the cupboard.

"Ron. I want to talk to you… right now."

"Oh for the love of Merlin," griped Ron, and he looked down at his other robe pocket where he kept the Deluminator.

"Is that Hermione?" Harry asked, as he looked at him and then to his robe pocket.

"Ron, please meet me," Hermione's voice echoed from his robe.

A soft glowing blue light appeared from his robe pocket, traveled up, and swiftly entered his chest right at his heart.

"You know you still love her if that just happened," Harry annoyingly pointed out.

Ron said nothing.

"Where is she?" Harry asked.

Ron exhaled a little as his heart was fluttering a bit because he knew exactly where she was. "Eiffel Tower, but I'm not going."

"Cliche. But why not," Harry demanded to know.

"Because I have nothing to say to her," Ron declared to both Harry and himself.

Harry wasn't having any of it. "Then go and listen. That would be a step in the right direction."

"I can't. I have to… oh never mind." Ron was about to justify why he needed to perform surveillance on Umbridge but the look on Harry's face told him what his response would be.

"You can't arrest her!" Ron ordered, letting Harry know that he could continue the surveillance while he met with Hermione.

"I won't, unless I see her-" Harry pledged.

"You **can't** arrest her!" Ron interrupted whatever exception Harry was about to make.

"-Trying to escape."

"YOU… CAN'T… ARREST… HER! Not until I know what the Immortals are up to," Ron paused between each of his words to greaten the impact of what he was telling Harry.

"Fine," Harry sighed. "It's your investigation… happy to help," Harry answered somewhat reluctantly.

An impatient voice spoke again, "Ron. I want to see you now. Please!"

"I'm coming, you bossy git," Ron snapped at his robe. "Harry, check out Umbridge's office and see if you can find anything. I'll be back soon."

Harry, being a git as well, couldn't resist one last jab as Ron opened the cupboard door to leave.

"If you're going to run through the streets naked with Hermione, make sure she wears a bra."

"I need a new job," Ron moaned, as he left the cupboard and then the French Ministry.

:::

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><p>The top of the Eiffel Tower had two levels, one for the muggles and one for magical people and beings. Ron figured the muggles never noticed the upper level because all of them were too busy looking downward toward the city.<p>

Ron scanned the observation deck to see an elderly couple taking pictures, a goblin looking through a brass telescope, and a French girl nervously peering over the rail at the city.

"What the…" Ron exclaimed upon closer inspection of the French girl.

She was wearing a black wool skirt, a white and black polka-dot blouse, and light beige stockings with black heels. Her curly hair was tied nicely in a red bow underneath the silliest of a red French beret. It was as if she was having an out of body experience as a French woman.

"Hermione?"

She turned around and briefly offered a smile before responding, "Ron."

"What's with the stupid beret and that outfit?" Ron inquired, as he walked toward her.

The smile disappeared so quickly that Ron thought he imagined it because it was almost instantaneously replaced by a look that clearly said she was ready to argue with him.

:::

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><p><em><strong>AN:**__ Please review._


	27. Chapter 27: You're English

**Author's Rant:** Merlin, let me guess you want Hermione in the story.

Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Hermione.

Have you got enough Hermione now? Or is there any chance I could hide her away till the last chapter.

No?

Tough crowd.

* * *

><p><strong>Beta's Note: <strong>Well, complaining that you want more Hermione in a story that is from Ron's point of view is kind of strange, don't you think? Especially considering that they are going through a break up in it. You really should not expect that the whole story is going to change from the way it currently is because you demanded it enough. If I beg the television long enough, do you think the plot of my favorite shows would change? Of course not. Let's all be reasonable and expect what is possible. Let's all be entertained by a story that is out of our control. Because that is the joy of fiction. Sillies!

:::

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><p><strong>Chapter 27 – "You're English"<strong>

"Hermione?"

She turned around and briefly offered a smile before responding, "Ron."

"What's with the stupid beret and that outfit?" Ron inquired, as he walked toward her.

Without so much as a pause to ingest what he was pointing out, she rudely snapped back at him.

"That's right, you prefer half-naked wenches. Sorry to disappoint you Ron, but I prefer to wear clothes when I'm in Paris."

Ron became irritated from her snide remark of the previous mentioned night with Clémence. If Hermione thought she could come all this way to Paris to sully Clémence's good name, then she had another thing coming as far as he was concerned.

"Clémence had no choice we were running for our lives and you can forget that wench dung. She doesn't go around from one celebrity page to the next with some snobby healer strapped to her arm."

Hermione's reaction was way too predictable and belligerent. "I wouldn't be too sure about that; she looks like the scarlet type that goes from one bloke to the next. Did you ever think that she might be using you because of your investigation?"

"You don't know her at all and it's interesting you should mention that this is my investigation."

Ron let that settle into her as he pressed into what he wanted to say to her. "Now why are you here in Paris interfering in my investigation?"

Hermione's chin jutted out a little as she stated resolutely with what sounded like a well-rehearsed line. "I'm here to get an update on your investigation. You haven't reported to Headmistress McGonagall in quite some time and from what I can tell from the newspapers you're completely distracted and-"

Ron interrupted her right then and there. "Distracted, yes - I'm distracted! With your stupid sewing club wanting updates. You do realize that I don't work for you? Right?"

"Ron, you're a member of the Order and we all report-"

"The war is over, Hermione. There is no Order of the Phoenix anymore!"

"Quiet Ron, people can hear you. _Muffliato_."

Ron pulled out his wand and performed the counter-spell, "_Finite_."

"I don't care if they can hear us because I'm not telling you a bloody thing."

Hermione, ever a woman that refused to back down, re-cast the spell. "_Muffliato_, Ron we are on a secret mission."

"_Finite_. If that's the case then why are you dressed like… like you're French?"

"_Muffliato_! I'm trying to blend in and be inconspicuous unlike you running through the streets of Paris with nothing but your boxers on!"

"_Finite_! Inconspicuous? You're dressed like a local, Hermione. Only problem is locals don't go to tourist spots – only tourist do! So you can forget inconspick… or whatever is you said!"

"_MUFFLIATO_! Fine, I didn't dress like a tourist but that still doesn't mean it's not important to maintain secrecy!"

"_FINITE_! Secrecy? Look around Hermione… there is no secrecy!" Ron pointed out they were drawing a crowd of tourists watching them making a spectacle of themselves.

"_**MUFFLIATO**_**!** And if you dare counter-"

Whatever dare Hermione was about to swear to him he didn't even bother to wait for her to say it.

"_**FINITE**_**!** You go back, and you tell them if they so much as stick their nose into my investigation again that I'll personally arrest and haul McGonagall off to Azkaban before her morning tea!"

Hermione's eyes squinted into the bittiest, darkest of cold death stares before she growled, "You wouldn't dare even if in a million years you be capable of pulling such a feat."

Ron smirked to Hermione that he was more than confident and more than angry enough to match his promise with action. "I'm a Ministry of Magic Auror conducting an official French Ministry investigation. I do not work for that bloody sewing club, or McGonagall, or the Order, or Harry Potter, and especially not even you! If you don't want to see me arrest her then I suggest you tell her to mind her own bloody business. And as for you - you can go back to your bloody boyfriend and leave me the hell alone!"

Hermione snapped, "He's not my boyfriend anymore!"

Just like that, Ron was completely speechless. He just stood there on top of the Eiffel Tower with a fire-breathing mad Hermione scowling at him. It didn't matter as the only thing he could hear was his heart beating wildly in celebration and the warm city breeze whipping through his red shaggy hair.

"He wanted to ask for my hand in marriage, but I thought it would be more logical to wait."

Just like that, Ron's heart completely skipped a beat. He helplessly listened to what Hermione had to tell him while his broken heart wanted nothing more than to break out of his body and leap over the rail to its death.

"Until we really and truly get to know one another, at least until his busy work schedule clears up long enough to properly plan a-"

Ron involuntarily squeaked a question, "Why him?"

Hermione seemed a bit caught off by either his question or the tone of his voice that he asked it in. "He's a fine gentleman. Very cute, funny, dependable-"

Ron's jealousy flooded his body as he regained the nerve to speak again. "Dependable? You think he's more dependable than me. The guy that fought with you in the war, together with Harry. He's more dependable than me?"

Hermione cleared her throat and then looked away from Ron's sight. "This was a mistake. I should've never come."

Ron reached out and grabbed Hermione by the arm to bring her stare back to him. He asked her again, looking straight in her eyes, "Why him over me?"

Hermione seemed a bit scared as she stuttered, "He… he doesn't need fixing."

"What?"

"I was tired of always trying to fix you and you wouldn't listen to me." Hermione explained as tears started to gather in her eyes.

"What are you talking about, Hermione?"

"You just wouldn't… all you would do is keep complaining about your low wages, or Harry getting promoted over you, or no one respecting you at work."

Ron said nothing; his mind seemed to be reeling from what she was saying about him.

"You wouldn't do anything to change. You just… wouldn't listen to me. All you wanted to do was to gripe or just have sex, or go to a stupid Cannon's game. We never went anywhere or did anything. I couldn't take it anymore. I don't want to wait for you to finally stop seeing yourself as useless and pathetic. I'm tired of waiting for you. I just want a family, Ron, with a man I can love."

"I... I am. Hermione you don't know what it's like. I'm sorry we never did anything when I got back home from missions, but I was exhausted and broke. All I wanted to do was spend time with you and relax. I told you all those things about me not getting any respect, or Harry getting promoted, or what not because I thought I could trust you."

"You can trust me, "countered a teary-eyed Hermione.

"No I can't. I opened up to you and… and you stabbed me in the heart."

Ron released Hermione's arm and stepped away.

"You broke my heart too, Ronald Weasley."

Ron wanted to finish this. He couldn't take it anymore… he just wanted to leave and never see her again. "You want to marry Derrick and live in a big fancy house with a huge library and have a successful Ministry career, then marry Derrick. I wish you nothing but happiness."

Hermione gulped a bit of air before she lightly offered a thank you. That's when a swift breeze almost lifted her silly French beret off her head. She reacted by reaching up and holding it on to her head to keep it from flying off the Eiffel tower. It was that breeze that gave him the impulse to do what came next.

Ron walked right back over to Hermione.

Ron audibly swallowed and moved closer to her as he whispered, "Hermione, there's something I need to do."

As he stood to his full height, he took Hermione by the hand and pulled her up to him. She started to say, "Ron my…" but she was cut off by the most amazing, electrifying kiss that Ron had ever done. He started to move his lips slowly back and forth, making little kisses on both her upper and lower lips. When he nibbled at her bottom lip, Hermione was so shocked she stared into his eyes; her eyelids looked heavy, but he could still see she was trying to stay focused on his reaction. The look in her eyes was intense and yet so caring and warm. It was beyond anything he'd ever experienced. The fiery feeling he had felt when he touched her face flamed up again and raced down his body as he took his free hand and started to run it through her hair by untying the red bow holding her hair back. The feeling of her warm body caressing his skin was almost too much for her and she had to lean against him for support. Her eyes slip closed as he used his other hand to travel up the side of her body. Hermione shivered as he reached behind her back and pulled her closer to him. His hands started to rub her back and hair with a rhythmic movement that relaxed her body and she sank into him even more.

His warm tongue pushed gently between her lips just as his hand moved from inside her hair to the beret on top of her head. She hadn't even noticed as she let out a soft moan from their embrace. He felt her tongue brushing the front of his teeth and he opened more of his mouth to feel their tongues come together. It was gentle and slow and so very tender. Ron responded to her soft moan of ecstasy by holding her even closer.

Ron could tell that Hermione's brilliant mind was spinning so fast she wasn't even sure where she was. He was certain, that all she knew was that Ron was kissing her and it was the most amazing, incredible feeling she had ever experienced. His mouth moved from her lips to her cheek to her ear and then back again to capture her mouth in another deep kiss. She moaned again as all the sensations left her weak-kneed. Her body seemed to grow heavy, as Ron was no longer rubbing her back but instead holding her upright. He reached up with his other hand and softly tugged the French beret off her now wind swept and untamed bushy hair.

All too soon, Ron pulled back from her lips. He Frisbee-d the beret over the rail off the Eiffel Tower before telling a breathless and listless Hermione, "You're English."

With that the other Magical tourists on the Eiffel tower clapped in thunderous applause at his romantic gesture. He smiled at them and then at a blissful and lifeless Hermione totally unaware of what had just happened. He soon departed after placing her steadily on a bench next to the observatory inner wall away from the rails. She was utterly, absolutely, and undeniably speechless.

:::

* * *

><p>"So what happened next?"<p>

"I… I kissed her. Only thing I could think of to remove that stupid French hat she was wearing." Ron declared to a gob-smacked Harry Potter at his flat.

"Oh sure, it was the French hat that made you kiss her." Harry ribbed him as he performed a cleaning spell on the damage to his flat that the Immortals made the night before.

"It was. You should've seen it. One of those bloody French pie pans you see girls wearing over here." Ron defended himself to Harry's unbelieving stare.

"Speaking of, over here… wow, Ron, this place is nice. Not far from the shops and the galleries at all. Ginny is going to love this." Harry declared, as he assessed his flat.

"No," barked Ron, squashing whatever idea Harry was having of them staying over.

"And the courtyard, those roses are huge. How did you get them so big?" Harry stated, while he completely ignored Ron's adamant no.

"What?" Ron was confused until he looked outside his flat toward the courtyard.

"Merlin." Ron was stunned by all the different color roses and their huge sizes. He remembered the day before they were a tenth of the size that they are now.

"Hmm, I used a Demon Dung cracker out there on the Immortals last night. They must've grown from that."

Harry offered an idea, "You should tell George. He could make a killing selling those for gardening."

"Yeah, I think I will." Ron agreed, sensing a good opportunity for the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes to make some profit.

"Now Harry what else did you see on her desk." Ron asked again about what Harry saw in Umbridge's office.

"I told you, just a bunch of new Presidential directives, mainly against you. You can't get any help, money, or arresting authority without prior permission."

"To be expected… trying to button up my investigation. What else, can you think of anything else?"

Ron watched as Harry paused a second before he said, "The only other thing I saw was a schedule calendar meeting over wine exporting laws."

Ron shook his head, "This country drinks way too much of that stuff."

By the time they had finished putting up new wards on his flat; Harry had left to update Kingsley on their progress leaving Ron absently-minded touching his lips for most of the night.

:::

* * *

><p>Next morning, Ron received an urgent French Ministry owl message. It had new evidence from an anonymous tip on the whereabouts of the Immortals headquarters. Which was silly as the French Ministry itself. The anonymous tipster wanted to meet with Ron outside of Paris. Obviously, whoever sent this wanted him to fall for a ruse or a trap and they think he's an idiot. This is why he was going to avoid the meeting outside of Paris altogether and instead go into the French Ministry to keep an eye of Umbridge.<p>

Problem was as he stepped out of the French Ministry Floo, they were waiting for him there too.


	28. Chapter 28: Dungeon of the Heart

**Author's Rant:** Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline, Outline.

I know what the last chapter looks like and it is not some distant fuzzy tie-everything-up-in-one-nice-bow chapter. It is the final chapter in the Outline, the ending of this story from point A, the beginning, to point B, the end. Did you know that JK Rowling wrote the final chapter of book 7 before she even started writing book 1? She did and it helps tie in all the clues that she carefully laid out in her stories. Along those lines, a poorly written story has clues revealed in the chapter they are used and a well-planned story has clues brought in several chapters beforehand.

You know how you can identify a poorly written story that is going to get abandoned, "_Midnight Confessions_" by **alloy_za**. The lazy stupid git doesn't have a clue on how to end it – that's how. The story was published almost six years ago and he still doesn't have an ending so he cowardly abandoned it. He has never offered an apology on abandoning his story to his faithful readers or in his case brain dead followers. I say, it's **Pathetic! **

You may call me an arrogant git, but at least I don't disrespect you by abandoning my stories. The reason why I finish my story is because I use an Outline.

…And I am an arrogant git.

Nevertheless, it's a good trait to have in an author and a good way to end a story, just ask the ex-readers of Alloy.

* * *

><p><strong>Beta's Note<strong>: Oh, ye of little faith. That is all I have to say!

:::

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><p><strong>Chapter 28 – Dungeon of the Heart<strong>

"Grazb him! Take off hiz Auror robe!"

"What the…" Ron roared, as two burly French Ministry security guards jumped him from both sides while another two French Aurors were pointing their wands at him.

"_**Silencio!**_"

The burly security guards each reached out to grab one of his arms as a French Auror hit him with a Silencing Charm. He fought back by kicking the guard to his left in the knees and then pitched the other toward the French fireplace behind him. It wasn't enough as the nameless French Auror, which Ron remembered seeing at Monsieur Delacour morning meeting, hit him with another spell before he could pull his own wand out.

"_**Petrificus Totalus!"**_

Instantly, his entire body went rigid as the two guards latched onto him again. He couldn't say or do anything as they yanked off his Auror robe and rejoiced at his capture.

The French Auror that had hit him with the Full Body Bind curse was especially pleased as he told him, "Thaz's juzt the beginning for what you did to me for the other night."

Ron had a hunch that he was talking about the other night when the Immortals had attacked his flat. By the way the French Auror limped a little as he approached Ron, he guessed he was the one that got hit with the Knee Sponge curse.

"Ronald Weazley, you're under arrest for the murders of Clémence Posey and her mother, Audrey Posey," growled the French Auror looking smugly at him.

Ron was unable to say the words aloud as he screamed, "_Murder? She was alive yesterday. She's dead?! YOU BLOODY BASTARDS!_"

"Take him to the Dungeons - quietly. I'll update the Director that we have him."

Ron tried to fight back as they magically levitated him up and away from the French Ministry Floo entrance toward a black iron gate at the back of the Ministry. Behind the gate was an area Ron had not seen beforehand as they started heading underground from the brightly and pleasant view of the French Ministry grounds and underground Seine River. The smell was the first thing he noticed that was completely different. Above ground the smell was a pleasant mixture of freshly cut grass and ladies perfume. In the dungeons, he smelled a moldy damp musk that was a mixture of the Seine River seeping in thorough the rock walls and filthy animals similar to a pig farm. The pig farm smell wasn't far off the mark when he was brought forth to two pale-green hairy Trolls carrying double-blade axes guarding yet another black iron gated door.

"Take this prisoner to the Governor." The other French Auror ordered that Ron couldn't see from behind him.

The stupid trolls merely grunted in recognition as they grabbed him from the air and carried him past the second black Iron Gate. The weird thing was as soon as he got carried past the second gate he could feel his body release from the spell.

"You murders!" Ron started to speak again, as all he could think of was getting his wand back and avenging Clémence's death. "Let go of me!"

The trolls not speaking English or being smart enough to think on their own only grunted in reply as they carried him deeper inside the dungeons. Soon the passageway opened up to reveal a few lit torches to light the passage followed by a line of prison cells. A few prisoners could be heard from behind a small black iron window in the middle of each of the thick wooden doors.

"Looks like that English one that supposed to investigate what's been going on."

"He didn't last long."

"Maybe he's come down here to ask us a few questions. Not like we've been under his nose the entire time."

"Useless wart."

"Hey Englishman, I want to officially testify! You're going to die all tied up with your head chopped off by an axe. Don't worry though - it's a suicide!"

"**HA-HAHA**!"

The entire chamber blew up with laughter from the prisoners as Ron got carried even deeper into the dungeon. To be honest, Ron never thought to question any of the prisoners. He always viewed prisoners as an unsavory lot that could never be trusted. In retrospect, he would've been better off if he had, especially after he was warned from Gerard that this Governor was most likely an Immortal.

"_Bloody hell,_ _I should've followed up on that_," Ron angrily thought to himself on how the small details in an investigation can prove to be the most valuable or in his case the one that's going to get you killed. "_I've been trailing bloody Umbridge so much that I forgot to check out the other leads about the Immortals. Good job, Weasley. Your first investigation is going to cost you your head._"

The trolls rounded another corner and then stopped in front of a small hole-in-the-wall of an office. It was the complete reverse of the grandiose offices and spaces above in the French Ministry. It had the size and shape of a broom closet. No windows, a small writing desk, a filling cabinets, and a drab look that made him wish he would never have to work in there for the rest of his life. He could make out a small plaque on the open door that read, **Governor da la Donjons**.

"The cells look nicer," Ron unwisely commented aloud forgetting for a second on why he was there.

"I like my office."

Ron looked over his shoulder to see a bold looking older dark hair woman. She was a bit odd to him at first; she had a streak of purple highlighted in her hair like what Tonks had use to wear. Plus, she was wearing glasses a rather unique oddity as most magical people have gotten their eye vision magically repaired to 20/20. Even odder was her demeanor, she seemed perfectly at home surrounded by ten foot high thousand pound Trolls carrying double-edge axes.

"You? You're a witch." Ron declared in surprise after imagining the Governor would be some obese slob of a boorish man.

"And you're Mr. Ronald Weasley, I presume." The snarky looking bint inquired, as she walked around to the front of them.

"You'll never get away with this. My ministry will be all over you as soon as I don't report in" Ron promised even if he wasn't too sure with how far they would actually go to rescue him.

He knew Harry would, but he wasn't too sure about the full weight of the British Ministry of Magic. Unfortunately, she didn't seem too concerned about the future. She was definitely a here-and-now type of girl.

"I think you need to worry about your own problems. The reality is I'm in control, Mr. Weasley." With that, the Governor held up a huge golden key that had the same length as a wand. It was more than just a normal key as it had a golden heart at the base of an embroidered gold metal design. Clearly, it was goblin made, as it showed no signs of rust or fatigue.

"Magic doesn't work here. As soon as you realize the better off you will be."

"That's why you need the bloody trolls here," Ron surmised as he glared at the Governor.

"I don't need the trolls to fight my battles; I can assure you Mr. Weasley." The Governor bragged, but Ron wasn't convinced at all.

The Governor noticed his doubts and merely smirked as she pointed the key straight at him. Instantly, Ron's heart burst into a massive pain of hurt and agony. Thoughts of regret, loneliness, betrayal, and anguish swept his thoughts as his broken heart screamed in pain. His mind raced with heartbreaking images of: Hermione attacking him with birds, finding out that she had kissed Victor Krum, and Voldemort's image of her kissing Harry. Then it warped into her telling him it was over between them, the social front pages of her dating someone else, her going to fancy restaurants with Derrick, her telling him that Derrick had proposed to her, and the news of Clémence Posey's murder.

"**AGGGhhh!**" Ron screamed, as he almost wanted to rip out his heart and toss it away.

"I don't know what the Director fears from you. You are nothing more than a pathetic loser. You've been riding safely behind Mr. Potter's broomstick all these years."

Ron's heart and mind were still tearing apart within him to argue the point. The best he was able to do was to mute his screaming in agony.

"Angela, Jon - take him to the lower cells." The Governor commanded the Trolls after she released the excruciating spell on his heart.

"Angela… she's a woman? Gross." Ron bravely declared, as he looked at the uglier of the Trolls holding him up to be tortured. To be honest, he really couldn't tell which of the two was the female Troll.

"She's my friend; I suggest you watch what you say to her." The Governor threatened him.

"I don't care that she's your friend. Who names a Troll, Angela? She looks like she came straight out of the swamp." Ron defiantly told her in a cheeky expression.

Shortly thereafter, Ron wasn't able to mute his screaming for at least ten minutes. By ten minutes, he meant several years of pure hell.

:::

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><p>Ron woke up to find himself in a rock faced medieval dungeon. Not the sort of place you want to be pitched head-first into by two angry smelly trolls. If the lump on his head was a good measure of how much trouble he was in, then the fact that he had no wand, Auror's robe, or an escape plan was just as painful.<p>

"Hey next door, you alive?" A voiced sounded through the dungeon walls to his left.

Ron inwardly groaned that he have to make friends if he wanted to survive.

"Barely, that key of hers. What is it?" Ron requested, in the hopes of getting useful intelligence so he could escape.

"La clé des cœurs. The Key of Hearts."

"How does it work?" Ron asked, while he slowly stood up in his cell to get close to the voice he was hearing.

"Who knows… some kind of ancient charm or something. What's your name Englishman? Sounds like you got a Devon accent."

Ron rested his back against the back wall before he answered his new and only friend. "I grew up not far from Devon. The name is Ronald Weasley, but you can call me Ron."

"Hello Ron, my name is Steve Fraiseau from Mentou-Salon."

Ron didn't have a clue where Mentou-Salon was, but it wasn't going to stop him from pretending he did. "Yeah, Mentoo… lovely place."

"Have you been there?" Steve excitedly asked.

Ron wanted to groan aloud, but he needed to pretend he did to build a bond with his fellow dungeon mate. "Sure small little French town in… say you wouldn't happen to know if we're going to get visitors or maybe even mail?"

"Ha. Yes, you are my visitor today. Bienvenue Ron." Steve cheekily remarked.

Ron rolled his eyes at how silly his own question sounded. It was one of the things that they taught him in Auror training to seek outside communication when captured.

"Ron, do you know what day it is?"

"Thursday. June 19th." Ron told him matter-of-factly.

"My poor Melissa."

"What," Ron requested as he didn't know who this Melissa was or why he sounded so disheartened.

"She's my finance. I was supposed to marry her by now. My son is staying with her in the States. That's the only reason why she hasn't killed me yet." Steve stated to him, as Ron could tell he was a bit proud that he had survived for this long.

"Why would she want to kill you, Steve?"

"She and the Immortals want my family vineyard. If I agree to sign over my hereditary rights to the estate, then they could take it and kill me. Nevertheless, I won't do it, no matter how much she tortures me. It belongs to my son and his son."

"_What is it with the wine thing again?_" Ron thought to himself at how often a vineyard or country farms houses kept coming up in his investigation.

"That witch can't kill me so long as my son is alive. He'll inherit everything." Steve proudly boasted.

An echoing voice from outside their dungeon cell interrupted their conversation. "He's over there, cell forty-six." Ron immediately recognized it as the Governor's voice.

"Hem-Hem, in here you say." A miserable and familiar psychopath voice said from beside the Governor.

Ron looked out his dungeon cell door window to see a flowery pink French hat tip-toeing up to see him through the window.

"Where you truly belong, Mr. Weasley, and to think I should've expelled you the first time I laid eyes on you at Hogwarts." Dolores Umbridge stated in her high-pitched girly voice.

Before he even had a chance to shout at her, a silver stag Patronus interrupted him. It had literally descended through the ceiling straight into his Dungeon cell.

Harry's voice echoed throughout the cell. "**Ron! The French President has just been murdered.**"

Dolores giggled wildly as she told the Governor, "I'll tell Monsieur Delacour that's he now the new President of France."

:::


	29. Chapter 29: France versus Weasley

**Author's Rant:** Do you remember when you read Harry Potter for the first time? I say that knowing everyone that reads my story today has actually read the books. Back when the movies were being release and you saw HP Fanfiction readers reviewing that Ron wasn't nothing more than a comic sidekick you actually wonder if they read anything… much less my story. Joyfully, those gits have moved on to the Twilight series where they asked the brain dead question of Team Edward or Team Jacob. Not that winning really matters in this question, as you would get stuck married to Kristen Stewart. Therefore, the real winner is Team Jacob. Now as for the Twilight author, I think Stephen King said it best, "_the real difference [between J. K. Rowling and Stephenie Meyer] is that Jo Rowling is a terrific writer, and Stephenie Meyer can't write worth a darn. She's not very good._"

To which I personally want to add, "thank you - Ms. Stephenie Meyer". You took all the lazy idiotic readers away from Harry Potter Fanfiction and we are **all** ten times better off for it. Only wish she could have taken the power hungry and useless HP forum moderators with her too. Not to forget, the Trolls… oh that would be like the best tasting ice cream sundae ever if they could all be Twilight fans. Or maybe they already are?

:::

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><p><strong>Chapter 29 – France versus Weasley<strong>

"**Ron! The French President has just been murdered.**"

Instantly, Ron's emotions went to despair and then anger as he listened to a gleeful toad croaked, "I'll tell Monsieur Delacour that's he now the new President of France."

"**Miserable little toad! I'll see that you get a life sentence for this!**" Ron roared in fury from within his prison cell, while he only heard the clip-clop noise of Dolores Umbridge's heels leaping toward the dungeon's stairs for a response.

Umbridge's complete lack of fear of serving a life sentence in Azkaban made Ron feel even shoddier. She knew he was going to die… and soon. That was the problem when using a Patronus as a message. Although, it positively identifies the creator of said message to the recipient, it's not exactly a secret on the who sent it if everyone already knows what type of Patronus you have. Umbridge would certainly know that the stag Patronus belonged to Harry Potter as he had testified about it during his trial in the 5th year at Hogwarts. Then there was the small problem of when the Patronus meets up with the recipient of said message. The message is voice aloud for everyone to hear around him. This is why it's forbidden to send Patronus messages to someone in the field except for extreme emergencies. Clearly, Harry was upset and worried that Ron would be in trouble. What Harry didn't know was that Ron was definitely in trouble and he made it even worse for him.

"It looks as if you're no longer leading an investigation into the Immortals. Pity, I rather enjoyed watching you run naked through the streets of Paris." The Governor happily remarked.

"You really are an evil bint," Ron boldly replied knowing full well those could be his last words.

"Cheer up, Mr. Weasley. You act as if you are about to commit suicide." The Governor stated rather ominously.

Ron knew he was going to need a plan if he was going to get out alive, but the only thing he could think of was using the Immortals fear of others knowing what they were up to. The only thing he knew for certain about their possible plans was it involved vineyards. Even with that tiny bit of information, he still needed to buy time to get his wand and Auror robe back. That was the only way he was ever going to have any chance of escaping.

"_Wait a minute_," Ron thought to himself, as he concocted a plan.

"Do you really think I don't know what you lot have been up too?" Ron arrogantly asked the smug looking Governor with a bit of acting.

"I don't think you're capable of figuring anything out, Mr. Weasley." The Governor offered her honest opinion about him.

"Oh really… well you can tell Monsieur Delacour that I've been busy these last few days. Just the other day, I was out to Courcoue looking at the vineyard he just bought."

This bit of news caused the Governor to tilt her head toward him before she adamantly denied what he said.

"I doubt you even know where it is… and even if you did, what concern is it of ours? There are thousands of vineyards throughout France." The defensive Governor impulsively lied.

"Courcoue is a little Muggle village in the center of France. Has a nice little town hall where you can find all kinds of Muggle tax records." Ron ad-libbed as he tried to sell the little information he did know.

"_I'm going to owe Percy loads on this for drilling it into my head where that bloody village was_." Ron thought to himself as he moved away from the dungeon cell door to the far rock wall to be out of the Governor's view.

He had to appear confident if he was going to sell the idea that he knew more than he did. That, and he was convinced the Governor was going to lie about everything she told him.

After a few seconds, Ron could hear the Governor directly outside his cell door. "Hmmph, what makes you think I believe you?"

Ron smiled hammily before he told her, "Funny, how much you can get from Muggle tax records. Oh not just there, but all over France. Like I said, I've been rather busy these last few days."

The silence only lasted a second as he could hear the old dungeon cell door lock magically rattling and clicking to open. The Governor squarely stood at the door with her golden heart shape key pointing straight at him. She was trying to carry a look of confidence and in-charge, but Ron could tell it was all an act. Deep down she was scared at what Ron supposedly knew about their plans.

Her only question was straight to the point. "Where are those records?"

Ron slowly took a seat against the rock wall farthest away from her before he offered an answer. "London. Not to worry love, I'm sure they will be headed straight for the International Confederation of Wizards. The Supreme Mugwump won't be able to overlook this many International violations. He certainly won't condone you lot killing the rightful President of France either. So Governor, all I have to do is sit right here in this little cell and wait for them to legally dissolve your government and…"

"Never going to happen," the Governor blasted at him. "You don't scare me, Mr. Weasley. Everything you said is a lie or a half-truth."

Ron responded with a smile before boasting, "I kept a copy of the tax records. It's in a little secret magical pocket sewn in my robe."

The evil bint only sneered at him before she shouted, "You must think me an idiot if you think you can fool me with that lie. You're not going to get your wand or your Auror robe."

Ron already had an answer to that, "I thought you said magic doesn't work down here? No matter, like I said – all I have to do is wait." Ron folded his arms as he gave her a lopsided smile that said he was right and she was wrong.

The Governor huffed in anger before she magically slammed the cell door shut. He could only listen as she left and then prayed to Merlin himself that she had bought it. Otherwise, he was going to be waiting for a very, very long time.

A voice from the cell next to his spoke up after the Governor was way out of hearing range. "Why did you tell her about the tax records? They will just cover it all up."

Ron recognized the voice as his fellow prisoner, Steve Fraiseau. He wasn't going to answer his question that he was lying through his teeth, but instead wanted to know what the bloody hell was so important to the Immortals about the vineyards.

"It doesn't matter. Why are the Immortals trying to steal your vineyard?"

"It's been in my family-"

Ron rudely interrupted; he didn't have much time before the Governor came back with his robe. "Yes, I know that. Now why is your vineyard and everybody else they killed so bloody important to them?"

"They didn't just kill for the vineyards, they killed a few to stay secret, a few others because they stood in their way, others - I guess just for amusement."

"Bloody hell," replied Ron at just how ruthless the Immortals are.

"As soon as they get your copy of the tax records they are going to kill you too. You know too much." Steve warned him.

Ron knew Steve was telling him the truth, but he needed to know what the Immortals were up too. "Why do they want the vineyards? I don't understand what this has to do with Wizards and Muggles."

"Wine is something that is shared by Muggle and Wizards alike. Wine exports for France generated over 136 million Galleons last year."

Ron was floored, he was flabbergasted, he couldn't even believe that amount of money existed.

"I figure if they quietly take over half the vineyards in France-," Steve explained.

Ron interrupted again, "Merlin, you mean this is all about money and not some pure-blood versus everyone else?"

"This is France, Ron. We aren't uptight like the British when it comes to things like that."

Ron had been treating the Immortals like the Death Eaters, but he now realized what Mr. Malfoy had told him, "_During the war, the Dark Lord had not so much a servant, but an ally._" Mr. Malfoy arrogantly assumed it was a pure-blood that had supported them. The truth was clear to him now that the Immortals didn't carry Voldie's racist view of Pure-blood supremacy. What the Immortals carried was a thirst for power and wealth.

Ron asked the last question that he needed answered. "Steve, how did the Patronus work down here?"

"A Patronus is the positive thoughts of the caster, like love. That is why only her key of hearts can work here. How can you possible feel love in this miserable hell hole?"

Ron finally understood and he didn't feel elated or celebratory. In fact, he felt lonely and miserable. He truly understood what Steve was telling him. The dungeon was nothing more than a place without love and hope.

:::

* * *

><p>Less than an hour had past when the Governor, plus a few of her troll minions, re-appeared in front of his cell door.<p>

"I should've known better than to believe you." The Governor growled at him as she held up his Auror robe. "Leigh Anne, Mark, take him into the LJ chamber. It's time we move on with our lives."

The trolls answered her order in troll gibberish before they stomped into his cell. They grabbed him by the arms and legs and unceremoniously carried him out of the dungeon cell, down the passageway toward a place even worse than his cell. The LJ chamber was nothing more than a bloody killing room filled with leaches and maggots feeding off dead bodies lethargically pitched in a corner of the room. Each of the chambers walls had numerous fire lit torches and blood splattered in every direction underneath them. In the center of this medieval hell stood a blood soaked flat granite rock with numerous axe indentations on the top of it. It didn't take long for him to figure out what they were from as the trolls shoved him down on his knees and pushed his head flat on top of the granite stone. He could see from the corner of his eye that the other troll was raising her double-blade axe above his head as he yelled out to the Governor.

"You have to listen! The records are in my robe! Only I can get them out!"

The Governor reflected for a second before she answered, "Wait, we should act like mature adults here. If what you say is true - the records for your life, Mr. Weasley."

The trolls looked dumbfound over at him and then over to the smug looking Governor now walking toward him. Ron didn't have a clue as to what, "_act like mature adults_," and getting your head chopped off had to do with one another but it sounded like something Hermione would say in an argument. She always had this annoying habit of wanting to appear morally and emotionally superior to him.

Ron pushed his head off the blood soaked granite and stood up before he reached out to grab his Auror robe that the Governor was handing him. He immediately dunked his hand deep into his robe looking for Harry's wand.

"You still think your wand is going to help you?" The Governor boasted, as she lifted her golden heart shape key at him.

Ron finally felt Harry's wand vibrating in excitement from his touch as he lifted it out of his robe.

"Let's find out - you bloody witch," growled Ron, as he leaped away from the trolls and pointed his wand directly at the Governor.

Ron's heart burst into pain immediately as heartbreaking thoughts flooded his mind. He remembered the last kiss he gave Hermione on the Eiffel tower, and the last time he touched Clémence outside her mother's flat. He struggled but eventually he willed his love for both women into his wand.

Ron could barely keep his arm up as he spun his wand to increase the electrons speed on the Governor's golden heart shape key. He wasn't even sure he was doing it right until he heard the Governor yelp in pain.

"Aaghh, it's ho… hot, cough.. cough."

Ron looked down on the floor at the golden heart shape key as it glowed red hot and was steaming in smoke. Even more satisfying was the look of the Governor welching in pain. She started grasping at her chest and smoke seemed to be billowing from her mouth like she was a smokestack. It was as if her heart had a magical link with the key.

"Cough, cough – kill him! Cough, COUGH!" The Governor demanded of the trolls as she was coughing out even more smoke while still grasping at her chest.

The first troll charged Ron with her double-blade axe slicing through the air downward in an attempt to cut him completely in half. He swiftly jumped to his left and avoided the steel blade by a few centimeters. He could even hear the small whistling noise as it went past his ear. Then the second troll made a horrible battle cry before he too charged at him.

Acting fast, Ron did a beater swing at one of the flame lit torches on the chamber wall causing a streak of fire to hit the second oncoming troll squarely in the chest. The second troll bellowed in confusion and then burning pain when he finally realized his chest was on fire.

Ron repeated another beater swing at another torch sending a second streak of fire to hit the first troll in the stomach. Her reaction was twice as loud as the other troll. Each of the trolls ran around the chamber screaming and hollering in pain like a pair of clowns at the circus. It wasn't until they stupidly crashed into one another did they finally stop.

"Cough, COUGH, what magic… is… Cough… this?" The Governor pleaded, as her cleavage and chest was now turning black like her heart.

"It's science, not magic. Now I thought you said you didn't need your Trolls to fight your battles?" Ron antagonized her, as he took a beater swing at the torch lit flames back where they came from.

The Governor didn't even respond with an outright lie as she raced for the door and then toward the passageway for safety. Ron hoped he never have to witness her cruel and sadistic behavior ever again.

After the Governor left, Ron carefully followed her outside the chamber into the passageway and watched as she struggle to breathe while attempting to escape. At first, Ron felt that she deserved to be punished; she deserved to have her heart as black and dead as a Dementor. He watched as she stumbled on a flight of steps and looked back at him not with anger or malice but with sorrow and regret. Instantaneously, Ron felt pity toward her. She could be a monster, but he knew he would be an even worse monster for letting her suffer.

"What's the fastest way out of here?" Ron asked, when he walked over to her with his wand out.

With a darker shade of smoke pouring out of her mouth and nose she pointed her finger at a rock wall a few steps away from them. He had a feeling it was a hidden passage that led to the Ministry buildings above the dungeon.

Ron nodded in understanding as he bent down and gingerly picked up the Governor to carry. By now her entire chest was a burnt shade of black centering on her heart. He solemnly carried her up the steps to the rock wall where he noticed a fire lit torch that was a bit tilted to the left. He figured it was a secret lever like the ones they use at Hogwarts and twisted the torch further to the left. The rock wall cracked and then slowly opened to reveal a dimly lit passageway with stairs.

Ron offered a few kind words to the woman that had just tried to kill him, "When we get clear of the dungeon it should break the spell that links your heart to the key."

:::

* * *

><p>Eventually, Ron made it out of the dungeon to fresh air and an open enclosure facing the French's Ministry of Magic Atrium. He looked down at what he was carrying and noticed the dreadful looking Governor was barely alive. He knew that she would have to get proper medical attention to stay that way. What he didn't know, was why the only thing he could think of was to send her straight to Madame Pomfrey at Hogwarts. He must've figured if he sent her to St. Mungo's Hospital, then he ran the risk of her escaping, something that he knew would never happen under Headmistress McGonagall's care. She would make certain that the Governor was handed directly over to the Ministry of Magic Hit Wizards after she was properly healed.<p>

Ron laid the Governor on the grass and performed an illegal Portkey spell on her glasses. Within seconds, she was magically lifted and transported to Hogwarts. He exhaled a bit in relief as he started to notice a rather large crowd gathering around a stage set up in the center of the atrium next to the underground Seine River. As he looked closer he could barely make out the people on the stage was about to deliver a speech to the French Ministry employees gathered around them.

"**My fellow magical citizens it is with deep disappointment that I must inform you of the loss of our beloved President.**" A distinctive voice magically echoed throughout the underground French Ministry.

Ron immediately recognized it as Monsieur Delacour's voice.

The gathered crowd of French Ministry employees below the stage collectively gasped in despair and anger.

"**He was cowardly murdered in cold blood by foreign terrorists. A few of the terrorists have already been captured by our own loyal Aurors and rest assured. We've been able to receive a signed confession from them that they were being led by none other than… Ronald Weasley.**"

"Bloody hell," groaned Ron, as he joined the other French Ministry employees gathering around the stage.

Nobody seem to notice that Ron was standing right beside them as they were all looking straight toward the stage at Monsieur Delacour and a radiantly happy Dolores Umbridge standing off to his right.

"**Do not worry my fellow citizens, Mr. Ronald Weasley will be captured and legally tried for his horrendous and cowardly act.**"

Ron scoffed at that lie, for all they knew he was already dead in the Dungeon. He had a hunch that Delacour's plan was that he was to be on the lamb forever with no one else as a possible suspect for the murder of the French President.

"**With the Executive Committee's unanimous approval, I step forward in this dire time to reluctantly accept the position of President of Magical France. In the wake of our beloved President, I want to assure you-**"

Ron had heard enough and pointed his wand at his throat to perform the Sonorus spell.

"**You should probably tell them you're also the leader of the Immortals!**"

Delacour was completely stunned as were most of the French Ministry employees standing around him.

"**The Immortals were the ones that killed the President and countless others in order to control half the vineyards throughout France!**"

Delacour was at a loss of words as he angrily scowled at him for outing him in public. It was only a vile looking Umbridge who had the voice to speak up.

"There he is! Arrest him! He's a murder!"

Ron immediately shot the stage's foundation with a Blasting curse. The huge blast unceremoniously hurled everyone off the stage to the ground in front of him. Before he could stun and bind Delacour, he heard the clattering of running wizards and witches. He looked back over his left shoulder to see numerous French Aurors and Ministry security personnel racing toward him.

Hastily, Ron did a beater swing at the underground Seine River toward the whole lot of them wanting to arrest him. A huge ten meter wave of water leaped up and jumped across the embankment to smack the mob of Aurors and security personnel head on. Some had managed to redirect the water around them while others were not as lucky. The Seine River engulfed a great many of them and swept them out of the atrium toward the underground dungeon below.

Ron followed up by slowing down the electrons of the underground cavern's magical ceiling that resemble a bright blue cloudless day with a glowing soft natural orb light representing the sun. The loud crack could be heard throughout the French Ministry as a shower of falling rocks started to rain. Panic and mayhem ensued as everyone started racing out of the atrium for safety.

Ron then turned his attention back on to Monsieur Delacour scrambling to pull out his wand from his new Presidential robes.

"Expelliarmus," Ron performed the disarming spell at the new French President.

While Delacour's wand flew out of his hand, Ron reached deep into his Auror robe and pulled out his Auror cuffs. They were now magically awaken to arrest Monsieur Delacour.

"You are under arrest Monsieur-"

Instead of being afraid, Delacour was decidedly indignant toward him. "You have no legal authority here, Ronald. I am the sovereign Magical President of France."

Ron growled in response while his cuffs were snapping loudly at their desire to arrest him.

"I'm going to regret this." Ron stated aloud, as he released his Auror cuffs to arrest his suspect.

The Auror cuffs magically flew across the grounds dodging and weaving past numerous French Ministry employees until it finally snapped around the pudgy wrists of a surprised Dolores Umbridge.

"**Nooooo!**" A chained and captured Dolores Umbridge hollered for everyone around her to hear.

Even Monsieur Delacour was surprised as he looked toward Ron for why her over him.

"I may not have legal authority to arrest you, but I got loads to arrest her." Ron declared, as he started to look around the atrium for an escape.

"You're in France, Ronald. There is no place for you to go." Monsieur Delacour boasted, as he waved for another group of Ministry security personnel across the river to arrest him.

Ron flicked his wand at the Seine River sending a huge column of water to blast the bridge to pieces preventing them from crossing over. Even doing that he knew it would be a matter of time before they completely surrounded him. If he still had Harry's broom, then he could've raced out of there with Dolores Umbridge in tow.

"Stupid Harry," Ron grumbled, at how often Harry made his life a lot more difficult.

It was at this moment that he heard a familiar voice.

"Ron!"

He immediately looked over his right shoulder to see a small reconfigured Muggle boat zipping down the underground Seine River. Piloting it was a red hair wizard wearing a silly green fishermen's hat and even sillier Muggle fisherman clothes.

"Dad?!"

"Hello son, McGonagall thought you might need a hand." His dad proudly told him, as he moved the boat toward the bank where he was standing.

"Don't let them escape!" Monsieur Delacour roared to anyone that was still left in the atrium.

"Shut up, you dung beetle." Ron snapped, as he stunned him with his wand.

Ron also started to observe that more rocks were beginning to fall down around him as what started off as a small rain shower of rocks was now increasing to a downpour of huge boulders. At this rate the whole ceiling was going to give way in less than a few minutes.

"Hold on Dad - I'm coming." Ron yelled, as he flicked his wand to order the Auror cuffs to follow him.

They quickly responded by dragging a belching and crying Dolores Umbridge desperately trying to get loose.

"This is not legal… nooo… I don't want to go back." Dolores pleaded as she tried to fight the Auror cuffs magically dragging her to the boat. "I don't belong in prison. I'm a Senior Ministry employee. I order you to let go of me"

Ron leaped into the boat and was immediately confronted by numerous different tools from his Dad's garage workshop. They all seem to be running to him for safety.

"You brought your tools?"

His Dad shrugged before replying, "This was my first launch. I wasn't sure it would float properly so I brought them with me just in case."

As his Dad was telling him this fisherman's story, Dolores and the Auror cuffs were bounced against the rail of the boat. The magical cuffs were having a hard time hauling her onboard.

"I got a hook if you need it." His Dad proudly declared, as he pulled out a huge metal rod with a sharp hook at the end used for hauling fish into the boat.

Ron shook his head no even though he personally thought it would've been funny to see a large metal hook running through Umbridge's mouth. Instead, he kicked off his Dad's tools that were shivering in fear beside him to reach out and grab Umbridge's arms. He almost pulled out his back hauling her into the boat, before he told his Dad, "Go. Let's get out of here."

His Dad responded by immediately reversing the boat away from the embankment. By now spells and hexes were crossing over their heads and against the boat side as Ron noticed that some of the Aurors were now riding on broomsticks. He immediately recognized two of them as the Aurors that killed the old man at the farmhouse in the Bourgogne providence. He shot off a few stunning spells that only managed to make them keep their distance from them in the boat as his Dad finally moved the throttle to forward.

"Ron… you might want to wear a life vest." His Dad nervously stated, as they were now racing 90 degrees straight up the Seine River toward what look like the bottom of the Seine River.

They blasted straight through the water and upwards to the surface. He didn't know how but he still had his wand and Umbridge beside him as they all breached the surface for air.

His Dad, ever the enthusiastic optimist, indicated, "That was exciting."

His excitement was short-lived as the arrogant French Auror and the Crabbe-like thug Auror flew out of the river on broomsticks behind them.

"I'm soaking wet," snarled Dolores Umbridge looking like a wet pink toad with the clothes she was wearing.

"Go, Dad, go!" Ron shouted, as he shot a few stunning spells at their pursuers.

His Dad swiftly responded by touching a button on the captain's console that completely jerked the boat forward at unbelievable speeds. Problem being as they magically raced down the Seine River past numerous Muggle boats and spectators all along the Paris river banks while being chased by two men riding flying broomsticks it wasn't in keeping with the International Statue of Wizarding Secrecy of 1692. Not that he cared a knut about it. If the International Confederation of Wizards had properly done their job in the first place, then he wouldn't be in a Muggle boat racing through Paris with an Azkaban escapee, his giddy Dad thinking they are on a father and son fishing trip, his Dad's frightened tools shivering desperately to his leg, and two murderous Frenchmen shooting killing curses at him.

"Dad we need to go faster!" Ron shouted back to his Dad piloting the boat, as he saw the French Aurors were starting to match their speed down the Seine River.

"I got the stickey thing down as far as it will go."

Ron came up with another idea as they roared underneath a Muggle bridge. He did a beater swing at the river for it to go straight up creating a wall of water underneath the Muggle bridge. It worked; the Crabbe-like thug hit the wall and then wiped out against the cement pillars of the bridge. His broomsticks burst apart into an explosion of golden sparks as he splashed into the river below the bridge.

Ron smiled a rather huge grin before almost getting hit with a greenish killing curse. It missed him by only a few meters.

Ron looked up in the sky to see the arrogant French Auror had climbed above the Muggle bridge to avoid his rising water wall trap. The French Auror was now zooming straight toward them on his broomstick with a determined look to kill him all of them. With the best of aim that Ron could muster, he shot off a litany of stunning spells at him. He was missing terribly. It didn't help that his Dad was swerving in and around Muggle bridges and Muggle boats. Ron knew what the French Auror was doing; he was closing the distance from above. If they were going to escape then he have to make his Dad's boat go even faster.

"Hold on, Dad!" Ron shouted, as he did a huge beater swing at the river toward himself.

The river slowly climbed one meter, two meters, and three meters in height directly behind the boat. It was at this less than opportune time that his Dad's boat started bellowing black smoke from the Muggle outboard engine.

"Uh oh." His Dad nervously declared, as he moved the throttle back and forward frantically.

The river was now a huge swollen wave of ten meters high and climbing as it was now lifting the powerless boat upwards.

"Mr. Weasley!" Umbridge screamed in fear as she, too, was grabbing his leg for safety.

Ron ignoring the boat being carried down the river in a tidal wave shot another series of stunning charms at his last remaining pursuer. On his last shot he managed to finally hit the arrogant French Auror squarely in the chest causing him to foolishly fall off his broomstick into the water below.

"Got you! You stupid git!" Ron rejoiced aloud.

"Mr. Weasley!" Umbridge screamed again as she was now holding on to his leg even harder as the boat was decidedly tilting downward on a twenty meter high wave.

Even worse than that… there was a bend in the river and they were racing straight toward a river embankment next to a park.

"I can fix this," declared his father yanking the boat's throttle out of the console to point his wand down inside it.

Whatever it was that his Dad could fix it didn't matter as the tidal wave launched the broken Muggle boat that should never had been bought by his crazy father, a screaming and soaking wet escapee latched for dear life to his leg, various magical tools that were just as frighten and latched onto his other leg, an obliviously happy red hair wizard wearing a silly Muggle fisherman's hat, and a young British Auror swearing to himself.

"_There has got to be a better way of making a bloody living_."

:::

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><p><strong>AN:** I hope this chapter makes sense because I'm full of cold medicine. I hate Summer colds. Please review!


	30. Chapter 30: Umbridge vs MoM

**Author's Note:** With my story about to end, I thought I should clear up some technical matters. First, Monsieur Delacour is Mr. Delacour in French in case anybody didn't already know that. Problem being, both Harry Potter Lexicon and Harry Potter Wiki refer to him as Monsieur Delacour. Now I've gone out on a limb a few other times and called an unnamed first name Harry Potter character something else before. However, there is a very good reason why I didn't do it this time.

You see - I believe Mrs. JK Rowling is a secret reader of mine, (_yes, my ego is that big_). The reason why I think that is because she will come out and make cannon something completely different from what I wrote. Don't believe me? In Dragonheart, I made Norbet a male dragon. Less than a few months go by after I wrote that and JKR informs the world that Norbet is a girl dragon. Wasn't even really prompt to make that announcement - she just made it. I swear to Merlin himself that is completely 100% true or cannon seeing how we are talking about JKR.

_You still don't believe me?_

I wrote that Professor McGonagall had a lost love from Scotland in this very story and less than a few months go by and we read a completely different lost love story on Pottermore from JKR that involve TWO lost loves for Professor McGonagall.

_She hates me…_

Mrs. Rowling, I know you're out there reading this and I know you have the final say. However, please stop doing that. Just like you, I put a lot of effort into research and fact checking before I write my stories. I know I bend cannon a little bit for creativity purposes and storytelling but I do try to stay in the lines for the most part. I also know my grammar is awful. I don't have a professional editor or even a full time Beta to help me out. I promise I'll go back and try to clean up my mistakes as best as I can. With that being said… even you have to admit I'm creative and original. I don't write crappy one shots or marriage law fics or silly "Hermione is a princess and Ron is the poor dumb luck kid that she eventually likes" rubbish. You have to like something about me if you've been reading for this long? No? A little… just a smidge?

I tell you what… if you like me just a tiny bit, then you can come out in a few months, or however long you want, to tell us Mr. Delacour's first name. It will be our little secret – I promise. ;-)

* * *

><p><strong>Beta's Note:<strong> That was quite the end to last chapter wasn't it! The ending of this fic is in high gear so I hope you can put all judgments or preconceptions aside to see how exactly this fic will end. The mystery part of the story is winding up which only leaves one thing…. ROMANCE! A lady lives for romance.

:::

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 30 – Umbridge vs. Ministry of Magic<strong>

"_There has got to be a better way of making a bloody living_."

Ron watched helplessly as a giant wave of water pitched his father's Muggle boat, his Dad who was still optimistically trying to fix said broken boat, a screaming escapee Dolores Umbridge latched on to his leg, several frightened magical tools latched to his other leg, and himself into a Parisian river bank of mud.

SWOOSH!

The roar of the tidal wave was deafening even when he was underwater and crushed deeper into the mud. It did not last long however as the swift tide reversed and tried to suck him and the others back out into the river. At this point, he could really feel Umbridge and the tools desperately holding on to him for safety. The wrench in particular was firmly fastened to his upper calf rather painfully. He wasn't sure how the screwdrivers or the handsaw was going to fare but being buried in mud at the moment there wasn't much he could do for them.

Swoosh!

"Cough, cough!" Ron coughed out a bit of mud that he accidentally swallowed.

He did a pushup to lift himself out of the mud when he was sure they had survived the tidal surge. He quickly accessed the damage and noticed he was buried thirty centimeters deep in the mud. It was as if he had formed a snow angel when he was a kid at the Burrow, instead now it was with mud.

"Dad?!" Ron roared when he saw that his Dad's Muggle boat was wrapped around a tree a few meters away from him.

"Cough! Cough!"

Ron looked for the source of the noise to find a huge pile of dirt and mud beside him. It was moving upwards to reveal a body arising from the earth.

"Ronald?"

Ron exhaled in relief.

"Mr. Weasley!" A familiar voice screeched in anger from beside him. "You pathetic little boy, my business dress is ruined!"

Ron rolled his eyes before kicking a dreadfully looking Dolores Umbridge trying to stand up from the mud beside him. "Shut up!" He took some satisfaction out of watching her falling back down in the mud.

"Ugh." Umbridge pouted after landing on her arse. "You'll pay for this. I'll see they give you the guillotine!"

Ron snarled as he waited and then twitched his wand forward to remind an insolent prisoner trying to stand back up in the mud who was really in charge. The Auror cuffs that were attached to her pudgy wrists magically lurched forward causing an unsteady Umbridge to go back into the mud face first.

Ron stated aloud, "I think we'll try putting you back into Azkaban first so not another word."

Ron finally stood up and softly moaned when a few of the tools released their grip on his leg. He slowly pulled out of the mud with his Dad foot by foot. When they had both made it to dry land, he took the opportunity to take a visual scan of his surroundings.

"Where the Merlin are we?" Ron asked aloud.

All Ron could tell was he was at some Muggle park in or around Paris. He wasn't even sure if he was still in Paris considering how fast they were traveling down the Seine River. All he knew for certain was he had successfully managed to escape the French Ministry. That's when his mind started to ask questions.

"Dad, how the Merlin did you know to come save me? And why the Merlin did you bring the bloody boat?"

His mud soaked Dad wiped his face off from the mud and started spitting out mud from his mouth before he answered him. "Pft, pft… I told you Minerva sent me an Owl telling me you needed assistances. She said you sent her a prisoner, that you were at the French Ministry and that you need help. At the time, I was flying out to the Channel past Plymouth-"

Ron's eyes bulged. "That blood thing can fly?" He looked over at the scrap of twisted metal and outboard motor with a missing propeller wrapped around a tree and then back to his proud father.

"Well you see I didn't have enough money for the trailer that came with it. So naturally, I had to make it fly to get the boat into the water. Not that it's illegal mind you. Strictly speaking, magical carpet rides and automobiles…"

Ron interrupted his father's usual legal loophole justification for things doing magic by demanding to know, "Why didn't we just fly out of there instead of going down the river?"

His father seemed a bit puzzled about his suggestion. "I… I guess we could've. No… no, it's safer on the water. This was better."

Ron rolled his eyes at the suggestion that death trap was safer on the water. Out of respect for his Dad, he bit his tongue and didn't say anything more on the subject. Instead he looked back at the Seine River and then down at a crying and muddy Umbridge crawling on her hand and knees to get out of the mud. Beside her, were several of Dad's tools magically jumping and bouncing to join him.

"Hmm, I can fix it." His Dad declared after viewing his boat in a tree.

The loony suggestion sent a surge of fear rolling down his spine. It had the same impact with his father's magical tools as they were now frantically hopping away from them. He wisely thought it was time to remind his father on who they had with them. "Not now Dad. We need to get her to the Ministry before they try to come after us."

His father seemed a little bit put off but dutifully agreed. "Yes, you're right of course. I guess it can wait."

His dad magically summoned all his tools from the river and the other ones desperately trying to hop away from them. Ron felt a bit of pity for them as he watched them land beside his father against their will.

"Dad, let me do a Portkey for your boat and tools. I'll put them back in your workshop where it's safe."

Ron smiled a bit at how happy and excited his father's tools were for his help. They were all bouncing up and down in approval. He motioned for them to board the boat and picked up the broken propeller to use as the Portkey.

"I'll see about asking Mum to get you some time off to recuperate," whispered Ron to his father's magical tools.

"What was that Son?"

"Nothing, Dad, just performing the spell… _Portus._"

He watched as the entire piece of junk with his father's tools magically lifted into the sky for his Dad's workshop garage at the Burrow.

By now a mud soaked, disheveled looking Dolores Umbridge had finally hopped out of the mud to join them on dry land. She was every bit as angry as the time he seen Fred and George routed her before leaving Hogwarts which was going to make this that more enjoyable.

"Time to go home, Madam Undersecretary."

He performed another Portkey spell on a branch lying beside him and forcibly grabbed Umbridge's hand for her to hold on to it next to his Dad.

"No… no, I order you to release me. I…"

Ron felt a hook behind his navel pulling him upward.

:::

* * *

><p>Ron, his Dad, and Umbridge landed inside the Ministry's atrium near the gilded Floo network fireplaces. Unfortunately, when they landed a bit of the mud and water they were carrying on them splattered all over the clean dark wood floors. Not only that but all three of them were leaving a trail of muddy footprints as they walked to the elevators.<p>

"_Reg is going to be sore with us for this_." Ron regrettably thought, as they started walking past all the busy Ministry employees and visitors unnoticed.

Clap…clap, clap, clap, Clap, CLAP, **CLAP**!

A strange noise of clapping interrupted the usual going on and noise of a busy atrium. Ron had to look through the crowds to see the source of the disturbance. To his amazement, it was a smiling Reg clapping loudly. Even more amazing, everyone in the Atrium stopped to look around at who was clapping and then back over to them as for the why. It was an Auror cuffed Dolores Umbridge wearing a mud soaked pink dress that they immediately recognized.

"They got her."

"It's the toad!"

A spontaneous uproar of approval and clapping ignited from everyone in the atrium. It was maddening even as a visibly crying Umbridge was screaming at them.

"**What are you looking at?! Get back to work… all of you! I ORDER YOU – GET BACK TO WORK!**"

Her barking mad orders only made the applause and clapping from everyone even louder. The strange thing about it, Ron wasn't getting the applause or the congratulations.

"Looks like you went frog gigging for her, Arthur!"

"You got a big one there, Arthur – I throw her back!"

"Good catch, Arthur!"

His Dad was proudly smiling and taking handshake after handshake from his friends and co-workers. The way his Dad was dressed in muddy fishermen clothes only added to the perception that they were out frog gigging for Umbridge. The whole idiotic notion was about to make him yell out the truth as numerous reporters from the magical press raced over to them for pictures.

"Excuse me, Son; let me take a picture of your Pop there with his catch." A reporter remarked as he tried to shove Ron out of the picture of his Dad and a captured Umbridge.

Ron was about to explode in anger but an apologetic look from his father made him think twice. His Dad spoke up to correct the record, but was barely heard over the roar of the growing crowds all jockeying to catch a glimpse of a defeated Umbridge.

"This is my Son. He's an Auror. He's the one that-"

Snap! Snap! Snap!

The reporters weren't listening as they took photo after photo of his Dad and Umbridge.

"-found and arrested her. He's the real hero."

They didn't listen. No one did. Ron could only watch as the crowds swelled inside the atrium, as everyone in Magical Britain now seemed to be aware of Umbridge's capture. As he looked at his Dad, the imposed hero of the moment, he started to think about it. If ever there was one person more overlooked them him, it was his Dad.

He eventually smiled to his Dad and dutifully stepped aside for the reporters to take even more pictures of his surprised Dad and a bawling Umbridge.

Snap! Snap! Snap! Snap!

It was then that a loud voice magical voice echoed throughout the atrium. "Make a path, people! Make way for the Minister of Magic!"

Ron immediately recognized the voice of Percy Weasley and saw him busily opening a path for Kingsley, Harry, and a jubilant Hermione to join them.

Harry was the first to reach him and joyously slapped him on the back in congratulations. "You git! You had me worried."

Ron wasn't really paying attention to Harry as such much as a jubilant Hermione about to leap in to hug him, but she stopped herself after remembering they were no longer together. She gulped in regret and embarrassment before offering a handshake instead.

"Ron - well done. We were worried you might have been captured."

The whole moment seemed surreal to him. Ron could only offer up their usual old shared line of, "Always the tone of surprise." He privately smirked to himself after returning Hermione's handshake that she had to wipe the mud off her hand.

Then it happened, to his own amazement on a day of many - Hermione smiled at him. She even giggled a bit. Maybe it was from the whole spectacle of everything or maybe it was his muddy appearance, but she was undeniably smiling and laughing.

"Excellent job, Ron, Arthur!" Kingsley Shacklebolt the Minister of Magic congratulated them for all to hear especially the magical press. "Harry, take the prisoner down to holding-"

Ron interrupted knowing Harry's personal animosity toward Umbridge. "Unharmed!"

"Yes, unharmed. Take her down for interrogations, Harry. We still have many questions that I want answers too." A proud and commanding Kingsley order as he scowled a bit at Harry rolling his eyes.

"I wasn't going to kill her," mumbled a disappointed Harry magically summoning Umbridge's Auror cuffs to follow him. "A few lines perhaps."

"Now I think a nice hot shower and a change of clothes are in order." Kingsley suggested as he slapped Ron in the back in recognition.

"Minister a word," spoke up the office head of the Wizengamot Administration Service, a Mr. Ed Miliband.

Ron was not a fan per say of Mr. Miliband, although they never had cause to speak with one another. Miliband always preferred to speak with Harry on criminal cases in front of the Wizengamot. He just had an odd self-ambitious way about himself that reminded him of Professor Slughorn. It might have something to do with the fact that Miliband was a former Slug Club member himself.

Hermione seeing a chance to speak with him regained his attention. "Ron, after you clean up I was hoping we could speak or… what I mean is… the Order can use an update on what you've been doing."

Ron wasn't sure if his facial expression changed after she mentioned the Order, but from Hermione's looking of regret after what she said he had a feeling it did.

"Yeah, the Order… listen Hermione, I'm busy. It's going to have to wait." Ron said, wanting to take up Kingsley's offer of a hot shower in the Auror's private locker room first.

"Sure, I understand." Hermione replied rather disappointedly. "We can meet afterwards. Maybe even go get a drink."

"That sounds great," Ron offered, before he left her to go over to his celebrity Dad.

"Dad." Ron sounded against the joyous crowd surrounding his father.

"Arthur, what size of a hook did you use?" A Ministry co-worker asked in front of the magical press to hear.

"I had a really big one, but my son said I couldn't use it to haul her into the boat."

"HaHaHA!" The crowd laughed aloud around his beaming father.

Ron smiled and shook his head then turned and left for the elevators. He wasn't sure but he felt like Hermione was watching him as he walking toward the elevators. He decidedly looked behind him and saw that she was indeed watching him. She smiled and waved at him when they gained eye contact with one another. He half-heartedly waved back and smiled to her before finally leaving for the elevators and a well-deserved shower.

:::

* * *

><p>After a long hot shower and fresh clothes, Ron walked out of the Auror's private locker room toward the Interrogation rooms on the second level. It didn't take long to notice the hallways were completely deserted. The cubicles, the desks, the private offices were all deserted. By the time he made his way to the Interrogation rooms, he wasn't surprised to find them deserted as well.<p>

"Bloody hell, where is everybody? Where's my prisoner?!" Ron wondered aloud hoping that someone would overhear him.

No one did and he was forced to go back to the elevators and down to the atrium to find out where everybody was. As soon as the elevator doors opened a huge mass of visitors, press, and international representatives were marching down the stairways.

Ron shouted to them, "Where's everybody going?"

"Level 10! The full Wizengamot is sentencing her." An elderly man answered, as he was climbing down the stairway with the others.

"Hope she gets the Dementor's kiss!" A nameless visitor in the crowd yelled.

"They don't use Dementors anymore."

"They should for her!"

"Bloody hell," Ron growled, as he bolted down the stairs to the to the level ten Wizengamot courtrooms.

He moved past the Ministry security lines that were put up to control the crowds and seating and went straight to the lower floor of the courtroom to hex whose ever arse was responsible for this.

The first thing he noticed after entering the courtroom was that it was packed with every Ministry of Magic employee, foreign dignitaries, and magical press that he could possibly imagine. International Confederation leaders, Americans, Brazilians, Dutch, Swedish, Russian, Chinese, Japanese, Australian, Egyptian, Mexicans, and countless more ambassadors were all present. The international magical press was also pressed inside the courtroom taking countless pictures of a chained and weeping Dolores Umbridge. She was literally the center of the courtroom sitting on top a high pedestal in a black iron chair that she was magically chained to. It was clear to Ron and everyone else that she was acting under the Veritaserum Truth Serum.

"She should be in my interrogating room." He griped, then looked and found Harry sitting in the front row of seats.

Harry was also looking just as angry as he was feeling. When Ron gained eye contact with Harry, he pointed at Kingsley and then at Ed Miliband standing in front of Umbridge's chair getting his picture taken from the magical press.

Ron angrily lifted his wand out of his Auror robe and pointed it straight at the back of a soon to be slug spiting git named Ed Miliband. His unbeatable wand was sensing another fight as gold sparks were popping out in excitement. Unfortunately, it was his stupid brother, Percy, who seemed to notice him and urgently tugged at Kingsley's Minister of Magic robes to gain his attention. Kingsley was standing at the courtroom podium and had to leaned down to hear Percy frantically whispering in his ear that Ron was about to attack his Head of Wizengamot Administration Service.

Kingsley eyes lit up as Ron focused his aim so as not to hit anyone else in the courtroom.

"Ron!" Kingsley shouted over the courtroom noise before Ron could get a clean shot off.

Ron took a deep scowl at both his traitorous brother and his boss who was frantically holding his hands out for him to stop. Kingsley pleaded with him non-verbally to simmer down and take a seat. Ron could tell Kingsley knew why he was sore and he had good reason to be. Reluctantly, he lowered his wand and pouted a little bit, okay a lot. The git still had it coming.

Ron stomped down the aisle toward Harry, but was stopped by a familiar voice.

"Mr. Weasley! Ronald, over here!"

Ron looked over to his right to see a row of women that he had met before at Hogwarts. They were the grieving mothers, but right now, they were anything but grieving. He wisely figured that Merlin himself couldn't pry them away from their seats at Umbridge's trial.

"Hello ladies." To a woman they all smiled and beamed proudly at him.

Two of them stood up and reached over to kiss him on the cheek. A third, the one he remembered who wasn't really sure about him in the first place, magically enlarged a white box in her lap.

"I spoke with your dear mother, Molly, and she tells me you're a huge fan of chocolate. I thought you might like to try one of my homemade chocolate pies."

"Pie? Why yes, thank you!" Ron's hungry stomach grumbled on demand as she handed over the white box to him.

"If you like that one, I can make you some more." The woman warmly offered, as his stomach was now rolling in excitement.

Now Ron was the one smiling and beaming proudly as he respectfully nodded to the newest members of his unofficial fan club. Even in a stuffy courtroom, he could make out the faint whiff of baked chocolate. He was practically bouncing down the aisle toward his seat with Harry when he finally noticed the knowing stare of Hermione who must've been watching him. She rolled her eyes at him and then she pointed at the only empty seat in the entire courtroom beside Harry and herself.

He knew it was the only empty seat because he scanned the entire courtroom to look for another. There was but for a second, one next to Mary Cattermole but Reg, her other husband, pushed her back to close the empty gap on the bench. Mary pouted at Reg, who completely ignored her, while he was pointing his finger at the seat next to Hermione for him to sit at.

Ron hesitantly joined a smiling Hermione who was mouthing "thank you" to a selfish Reg.

Bang, bang!

Kingsley's magical gavel called the courtroom to attention as he spoke aloud for everyone to hear him.

"The trial of Dolores Jane Umbridge is now in session." Kingsley motioned for the git, Miliband, to begin.

"My name is Ed Miliband, that's M-I-L-I-"

"**Get on with it,"** shouted an elderly wizard in the Wizengamot not wanting to listen to the git spell his last name out for the magical press.

The courtroom laughed in agreement as the flustered git tried to regain his composure.

"Yes… I am speaking to you today on behalf of the Wizengamot of Great Britain and the International Confederation of Wizards. We have here today a multinational representation of over fifteen magical countries."

Ron's stomach was getting the best of him as he slowly lifted the white box open. Hopefully, everybody was focused on the windbag talking and not him trying to steal a bite of his pie.

"Under the authority of the Wizengamot as well as Common Law and the Magical Secrecy Laws of Sovereign Magical Nations, I declare that as of this day, Thursday-"

"**We know what day it is you blowheart**," shouted the cranky wizard in the Wizengamot benches.

Another round of laughter and agreement broke out until Kingsley banged his magical gavel for there to be order. Ron was silently laughing in agreement, as he tore a slice of the warm pie and pulled it out to eat.

"Ron, not now," warned Hermione in a whisper as she foolishly tried to stop him from eating.

"Give me a slice," Harry demanded after sniffing the pie and watching Ron greedily about to eat a slice.

The second the pie touched his tongue Ron was blissfully aware that having a fan club could be greatly rewarding. Harry must've noticed his reaction as he pushed Hermione's hands away and took a slice for himself.

"A public International Court of Justice is hereby convened to consider evidence related to charges of crimes against humanity, unlawful escape, and criminal conspiracy to commit murder on the lawfully elected President of Magical France."

"This is good," Harry moaned, as he started to wolf down on his slice of the pie.

"The crimes that will be documented and judged in our Court are abominable and almost unimaginable. They span years, and range from outright murder to systematic torture of the magical citizens of France."

"Harry, Ron we're in court." Hermione warned a bit louder for them to stop.

Ron defiantly snapped back, "We should be in the Interrogation room." He reached into the white box to grab another slice.

Harry agreed with him, "Stupid git wanted to maximize public exposure. Like to maximize his arse with my foot."

Apparently, Harry said that a bit too loud as he grabbed the attention of most of the courtroom.

The git was now beside himself as he pleaded to Kingsley, "Sir, there should be no eating in the courtroom."

Ron flashed a snarl at the windbag git, a disapproving Percy, and his frowning boss Kingsley before he held up his slice of pie and started to eat away at it. He was daring them to say something to him. Harry joined his mini-rebellion as he loudly smacked his gums while eating away on his slice of pie. Even more amazing, a defiant Hermione pinched a piece of pie from his slice and started nibbling away in full view of everyone. The Golden Trio was once again defying the Ministry of Magic.

Kingsley thought better of it and ordered the git, "Continue on, Mr. Miliband."

Harry, Hermione, and Ron shared a chocolate smile with one another in victory.

:::

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Please review.


	31. Chapter 31: I Quit!

**Author's NOT Arrogant Rant: **I was going to give a nice little spew about Hermione's characters flaws… yes, she has some. However, I need to point out a few other things that's been bothering me for the last couple of weeks. I get that a great many of you finds these rants er, shall we say… off putting… irresponsible… irritating… annoying like a Marriage Law fic… totally lacking in tack and humility… and generally a void of wasted time and effort. Naturally, I disagree with you, but I can certainly understand your disagreement about it. What I don't understand… what I totally disagree with are Fanfiction awards. RHR_Awards, Romione award, etc. you name it and some A-hole out there has a little personal blog out there "judging" winners and losers as they see fit.

To which I need to admit I have never ever been recommended or nominated for anything. Not just this story but Dragonheart, Consequences of Lost Love, Intervallium, Hermione's Exasperation, Bad Cooking, Harry Potter Second War (book 5)… zip!

You know what else, I only get less than 1 percent of my readers that leave a review. Of the ones that leave a review a good many of them don't even have me listed as a Favorite. Now I can post a chapter Saturday night around midnight, go to bed, and wake up at 8am Sunday morning and find my story has been read by 300+ visitors across the planet. Within 48 hours, I have over a thousand visitors. These are visitors' stats not just views. For some reason the views are 3 times more than the visitors, not sure why that is. Anyway, these numbers paled in comparison to pre-Harry Potter book 7 and the movies. I had over 130,000+ visitors to Dragonheart and 1200+ reviews. I removed it over a year ago and readers are still upset with me for removing it. By the way, I'll re-post it after I finish this story and Billybob is finished with his rewrite. I removed it for personal reasons and I kept it off because I didn't want the comparison with this story. Side-note, if anyone wants to write a rewrite of Dragonheart say in a Pro-Hermione style then shoot me a PM requesting it and I'll be happy to let you.

Back to my point, I am blessed with a lot of loyal readers and as an author that is the highest award you can receive. I have ton more readers than all of the ones that have been nominated and "awarded". They can all brag about how their story has better grammar, more in cannon, and more awards but what they don't have is the readership. Not saying that a select few authors don't have more or don't deserve accolades. What I am saying is I would appreciate if my readers would leave a review. I don't get money and I certainly don't get awards. I rather have the reviews and readership. Thank you.

:::

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 31 – "I Quit!"<strong>

"Get your own slice, Hermione." Ron pleaded to Hermione sitting beside him in the Wizengamot courtroom.

Hermione wickedly smiled back at him as she continued to nibble away on his slice of chocolate pie.

"I like yours better."

Ron could only roll his eyes and grunt in disapproval to a woman who wasn't the least bit interested in getting her own slice of pie.

"Ms. Umbridge, do you admit to being involved in the murder of President Hollande." Ed Miliband, the office head of the Wizengamot Administration Service asked.

Dolores Umbridge sitting atop a high pedestal in a black iron chair looked even more toad-ish as her wide mouth and lips croaked, "Yes. I.. I found out which country and city he was hiding at from an inept employee in his office. I relayed that information to Monsieur Delacour."

A loud gasp broke out across the packed Wizengamot courtroom.

The Veritaserum Truth Serum was forcing nothing but the damaging truth from Dolores Umbridge for all to hear.

"What role does Monsieur Delacour, the now acting Magical President of France, have in all of this?" Ed Miliband, a windbag of a git, finally asked the most important question for the visiting International Confederation of Wizards representatives to hear.

"Here it comes." Ron alerted Harry and Hermione sitting beside him.

"He is the leader of a group called the Immortals. They rescued me… to help them…"

The git interrupted her version of the truth as she saw it. "By rescue you mean, unlawful escape from Azkaban?"

"Yes."

Ron reached in the white box sitting on his lap to grab the last remaining slice of chocolate pie for him to eat. Before the slice even made it to his mouth, a thieving Hermione took a huge chunk of it for herself. She didn't even have the courteous to be ashamed of her theft.

"Hermione," Ron whined to no avail then quickly finished eating his slice before she could steal anymore.

"Did Monsieur Delacour carry out the murder of the lawful Magical President of France in an act of sedition to seize power?"

Umbridge uncomfortably wiggled in her chair against the magical chains that restrained her before answering the git's question.

"Yes. He ordered the French Aurors to carry out the removal of the old President. He's now the new President." Umbridge stated in a drug induced monotone voice while sporting a rather evil grin across her face.

"Sentence her to death!" A courtroom spectator yelled out.

"Order! There will be no outburst from the audience." Kingsley Shacklebolt, Ministry of Magic ordered from the courtroom podium. "Continue, Mr. Miliband."

"Last question, Ms. Umbridge. What were the plans of Monsieur Delacour and the Immortals once they've succeed at taking over?"

A drugged looking Umbridge gulped before confessing, "We were going to control most of the French wine trade and the French Ministry. We were all to be rich. I would control the President's office, Delacour was to be President, the Governor would control the dungeons-"

Small chattering and whispering between the spectators was heard throughout the courtroom.

"This Governor was she an Immortal?"

Ron wanted to chuckle aloud after the git asked that question. Ron was only a few hours removed from almost getting his head chopped off by her.

"Yes." Umbridge solemnly answered.

"Let the court be aware that this Governor has already been captured and will be able to testify about her role inside the Immortals."

"I'm afraid she won't be testifying in person." A strong female voiced announced from the back of the courtroom.

The entire courtroom was in a bit of a shock as Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, wearing her customary elegant green tartan dressrobes, walked down the aisle to address the courtroom.

"The Governor is dead. Her injuries were too severe to heal in time." McGonagall stated to the entire Wizengamot while looking directly over at him.

He felt a little bit unrepentant over the news of her death. After all, she had no qualms about killing him. To be honest, she was only a dragon's whisker away from separating his head from his body by the use of a Troll's double edge axe.

"Then her testimony against President Monsieur Delacour cannot be used." A visiting foreign dignitary argued aloud in Delacour's behalf.

Ron looked over at what he guess was an ally of Delacour and was swiftly greeted with a belligerent scowl.

"Quite the opposite, before her death the Governor left me with a tear drop of memories that we can use in a Pensieve." McGonagall announced to the courtroom while holding up a golden vial.

"This… well, this is highly irregular. We… we would never allow this in the Netherlands." The blustering dignitary argued.

Kingsley spoke up to settle the matter once and for all. "This is Great Britain, not the Netherlands. Deathbed confessions in the form of Pensieve memories are legal and admissible evidence."

Several International Confederation of Wizards representatives nodded in agreement with the universally accepted custom of deathbed confessions. Agreement rapidly arose among a solid majority as they overruled the objections of an obvious collaborator of Delacour's. "Please continue."

"Sentence her already," roared another inpatient spectator in the courtroom!

"Order!" Kingsley bellowed to the courtroom to no avail.

"Give her Death!"

"I said Order!" Kingsley thundered, as he repeatedly banged his gavel on his podium.

"Death… death… death… death…" Most of the spectators in the courtroom were now ranting to the judging Wizengamot and speechless Umbridge.

Even the git was at a lost on what to do next. Ron figured the git probably just realized that they had a blood thirsty mob on their hands demanding the death sentence for Umbridge.

"Death… death… death… death…" They were chanting in unison now.

"They've gone mad," Hermione said to him, as the git and even Kingsley were unable to control the courtroom spectators.

"I didn't risk my neck to bring her back alive – just for them to kill her!" Ron growled and pulled out his wand to fight anybody that dared to attempt to make a run at a helpless and crying Umbridge.

"No."

Ron looked over to his right to see his best mate, Harry Potter, standing up to address everyone in the courtroom. The chanting of "Death" quickly subsided as everyone was now focused on Harry speaking to them.

"I know what it is to feel hate and loathing toward this … woman. I share it. Her crimes are numerous as they are deplorable, even to me."

Harry walked to the front of the courtroom and pushed the git aside to speak. "I want justice as much as any of you. I say to each of you, we will get no justice if we sentence this woman to death."

The spectators grumbled in disagreement.

Harry raised his hand for silence and then looked up at a crying Dolores Umbridge in her black iron chair. "Dolores Umbridge, do you regret anything you've ever done to hurt so many people?"

"No," Umbridge stated truthfully.

"Do you think you did anything wrong?" Harry asked.

"No, I am the Undersecretary of Magic. Everything I've done was to help the Ministry."

Harry nodded over at Hermione and him before he addressed the entire courtroom again. "If you give her the Death sentence, then she will never understand or appreciate her unforgivable crimes. You give her a Life sentence in Azkaban and I swear to you by Merlin that she will never set foot outside of it or harm anyone ever again. Moreover, yes - she will learn! She will finally learn regret, shame, and repentance for her crimes. Not today, certainly not tomorrow, but year after year in a dark cell within Azkaban - she will learn! That will be our justice for her!"

The courtroom was dead silent while they pondered what Harry was telling them. A knowing Ron was the only one with the berries to speak up by whispering to Hermione. "Did Harry just defend Umbridge from death?"

Hermione smiled in reply as she nodded yes.

"He's gone soft in the head." Ron cracked, even though he was in complete agreement with what Harry was fighting for.

Kingsley spoke up after Harry had finished his life saving speech. "The court will take a thirty minute break before we pass judgment."

:::

* * *

><p>A witch that Ron immediately recognized as one of the members of Hermione's fan club came racing over to them in the courtroom during the break to speak with Hermione.<p>

"Hermione, how good to see you! I missed you at the social Friday night."

Ron wanted to outwardly groan but stayed civil as Hermione reached out and hugged the woman.

"Leslie! This is great to see you. Oh, this is Ron. I think you met him before and this is of course, Harry." Hermione spoke with a slight girl-ly accent, as Ron politely nodded at the older woman who gave him nothing but a cold look.

The woman turned around and warmly pleaded to Harry. "Mr. Potter, I'm a huge fan. Hermione has spoken so much about you. I feel as if we are already friends. Can I call you Harry?"

Harry wasn't receptive with her in the least. Harry must've noticed how poorly she was treating him.

"No, you cannot."

"Harry?!" Hermione immediately objected, as she playfully slapped Harry in the arm. "Of course, you can call him Harry. He's only joking. He's such a prat, just ignore him."

Leslie gave out a fake laugh even though Harry's facial expression was anything but playful.

"Hermione, when are you and Derrick going to make the big announcement?" Leslie playful asked her, and took a not so subtle look over at him.

Ron's throat went dry and his already sore heart took an even bigger beating. Only his pride and anger was able to speak up.

"Yeah, Hermione, when are you going to make the big announcement?"

Hermione eyes went huge with worry as she looked at Ron and then back to a devilishly happy Leslie.

"I… It's not anytime soon-"

Whatever it was that she was feverously thinking to say she never got a chance as an angry Harry interrupted. "Come on, Ron, now that you're back I want you to fix my training room down the hallway."

Ron was sure his face was red with jealousy and anger, but quickly stepped away from a speechless Hermione. He simply followed a wordless and stoic Harry down the hallway to the Auror training room door that had numerous magical tape lines that blinked, "Danger," on them.

On impulse, Ron took out his frustration on the tape by ripping them down from the door. If he was watching himself doing it, even he would admit how angry and jealous he was by the way he threw the tape this way and that way from the door. Harry said nothing; in fact, Harry pretended that nothing was unusual about Ron kicking the door open. His anger sided a bit, as he looked inside the once clean Auror training room. It was now thick with black soot from the ceiling, down the walls, all the way to the dirt floor a half a meter below him from the door's entrance. Only a few small hand-size rocks spread out around the chamber's dirt floor were still on fire. Ron realized the only thing left from the room, when he last left it, was the small area of rock floor that Harry had stood on when he had left him in there. Everything else in the Auror training room was burnt and gone including Mad-eye's portrait.

"Merlin, Ron." Harry sounded in disbelief at what was left of his training room. "You burnt it to the ground."

"Yeah, it was a hell of a duel." Ron surmised then did the counter spell on the remaining rocks to extinguish the fire.

Harry shook his head and smiled in agreement with him. "One that no one will ever forget."

Ron almost snorted in disbelief as he told his best mate, "I seriously don't think anyone will remember besides us."

Harry put his hand on his shoulder before telling him, "They should. Not just this, but what you did today. Ron, you were the best Auror to lead this investigation. Personally, I don't think I could've pulled it off. "

Ron smiled at the much needed appreciation. "Thanks, that means a lot to me."

Harry smiled as they hugged one another in friendship. During the hug, Ron impulsively decided to go a bit cheeky with Harry to make up for lost times.

"You know it was good that you stayed here, Harry. I never could've argued for Umbridge like you just did."

Harry's smiled instantly turned to a scowl as he stepped back from the hug and snapped, "Shut it."

Ron was beaming as he kept giving Harry the mickey. "Who would've thought that Harry Potter would come out in defense for the Hogwarts High Inquisitor?"

Harry responded in a growl, "Ron I swear to Merlin, if you don't shut it I'm going to hex you into next week."

Ron had no intention of letting it go as he playfully reminded a sore Harry, "You don't suppose you're getting soft stuck behind that desk of yours? Or is it Ginny? It's Ginny isn't it. She's turned you into a crème puff. First it was letting the Malfoys' off and now it's Umbridge."

"That's it," snapped Harry as he leaped over to him and put a body hold around his right shoulder. He was attempting to toss him to the ground.

Ron didn't even fight back as he warned an angry Harry, "You need me alive for the wedding pictures."

To his own surprise, Harry flipped him over his hip to the ground. "Do you have any idea how much wedding planning rubbish I have to go through?"

Ron's arse was sore after landing hard on the dirt floor and he started to realize that Harry wasn't finding his wedding ribbing very funny. "No. I thought Ginny and Hermione were handling all of that."

"They are," snapped Harry reaching his hand out to help him up. "That's the problem. They want me to comment, taste, and agree on everything they want. If I say anything different, they both get mad at me and out vote me."

"They out vote you? You're the groom! The bloke getting married." Ron surmised, as he listened to Harry's problems.

"You're telling me? Women - they plan forever and spend everything on one single day to get married, but not a knut of thought about the rest of their lives together. Not only that, but Ginny has lost her mind over this. The wedding they've been planning is going to cost a fortune. I already used up a good bit of my inheritance money to buy the house in Godric's Hollow. Even with her Quidditch salary, I'm not going to have the galleons to pay for all of this."

If there was one subject that Ron understood, it was money problems. "Well, I'm going to be around a bit more so the next time they have a wedding planning vote, as your Best Man, I'll be there. At least we can tie the vote and then I'll hold down Hermione as you try to plead some sense into Ginny."

Harry smiled in relief reminding Ron on how much his family really needed him around.

"Thanks Ron."

They walked out of the training room together to find Headmistress McGonagall and a worried Hermione waiting for them in the hallway.

"Ronald. I'm sorry I couldn't deliver the news beforehand of her death to you in person." A contrite Headmistress McGonagall told him.

Ron understood and seeing how she had sent word to his Dad that he needed help in the French Ministry, he was more than willing to overlook it. "It's okay Professor. I'm not upset. I tried to save her even after everything she did to me."

McGonagall seemed to know what he was talking about, "I understand. I've already seen her memories and I have to tell you that she was rather surprised at how much you cared for her. Her previous memories were not filled with many men that were as kind as you were to her."

Ron nodded in understanding and even noticed that Hermione was proudly smiling at him.

"When you get the chance I would like a briefing on today's events." McGonagall requested.

Ron quickly spoke up to tell her, "I'm sorry, I'm not doing any more meetings or briefings for the Order. I already told Hermione that on the Eiffel tower."

Now it was Harry's turn to jump in. "What meetings for the Order?"

"We can all talk about this later," pleaded Hermione to everyone.

Ron completely ignored her to answer Harry's question. "The Order of the Phoenix. They want updates about the investigation."

Harry twisted his head toward McGonagall and snapped, "Why does the Order need a briefing about a French problem? Why wasn't I told about this?"

McGonagall, unaccustomed to having her decisions questioned, became rather defensive toward Harry. "Harry, I knew that Mr. Weasley was already updating you about the investigation. If we were to help him-"

Ron interrupted, "She did help but I'm not doing anymore briefings."

"—then I needed to be kept in the loop."

The answer was reasonable to Ron but Harry didn't see it that way. "It's my job to help Ron, not yours or the Order. The war is over. The Death Eaters are captured or killed – that's it."

McGonagall a little bit flustered with Harry arguing with her retorted. "I inherited the leadership of the Order from Albus, Mr. Potter. Other evil forces at play still threaten our very existences. I would think you would've learned that by now with the Immortals."

"Harry, please don't." Hermione pleaded to him because they both could sense that Harry was resolutely angry with McGonagall and was in his full blown hero-saving-the-day approach.

"You are not in charge of the Order – **I AM**! Dumbledore put me in charge to kill Voldemort. The war is over and I'm not going to lose another family member or friend on a never ending quest to rid the world of Dark Wizards." Harry shouted for everyone to hear.

His shouting brought out several magical press reporters and Ministry employees down the hallway.

"I disagree," solemnly stated Headmistress McGonagall.

Harry looked her square in the eyes and said aloud for the magical press to hear him. "The Order of the Phoenix is hereby officially disbanded."

Snap! Snap! Snap!

The magical press was taking picture after picture of a determined Harry and a flustered Headmistress McGonagall.

"There will be no more Ministry briefings or meetings on the Eiffel Tower or anywhere else."

Snap! Snap! Snap!

"For the record, I didn't order a meeting on the Eiffel Tower." McGonagall stated then sternly looked over at Hermione and then him.

Hermione loudly gulped in fear.

"What?!" Ron reacted to the revelation about McGonagall not ordering a meeting on the Eiffel Tower.

Snap! Snap! Snap!

He turned his view on a blushing Hermione nervously smiling at him. "Ron, I can explain."

"Merlin, here we go," griped Harry rolling his eyes at the both of them.

"You lied to me." Ron stated aloud in shock.

Snap! Snap! Snap!

"I didn't lie. I just wanted an update on how you were doing… and then you tossed my beret off the tower." Hermione attempted to deflect the topic of her lying to him.

Ron was stunned as he thought, "_I keep forgetting how good she is at lying_. _She lied to Umbridge in the Forbidden Forest, she lied to me about her relationship with Vicky, she lied to me about her true feelings when I was dating Lavender, she lied to me about Derrick… wait._"

"Are you engaged to Derrick or not?" Ron pointedly asked her for the truth.

Snap! Snap! Snap!

Hermione's facial expression told him what he needed to know. "I… I didn't accept. I told you that."

"No you didn't. You said it would be more logical to wait to marry him."

"You… you misunderstood what I was trying to say. You always do that. You left before I even had a chance to tell you."

Snap! Snap! Snap!

Harry no doubt knowing more than he did finally spoke up, "She broke up with Derrick several weeks ago when she finally realized what a pompous prat he was. I'm guessing the Eiffel Tower meeting was because of your boxer-only run through Paris with another girl."

"Harry!" Hermione barked at him for finally revealing the truth.

"Don't Harry me. I only recommended that you take a break. You were the one that decided to dump Ron and date Derrick. That caused Ron to get jealous and attack me outside Kingsley's office."

Snap! Snap! Snap!

Ron felt a bit ashamed that he had attacked an innocent Harry and dutifully offered his apology. "Sorry Harry."

"I probably earned it by not telling you that you were having problems with Hermione. You two need to learn to talk with one another." A fair-minded Harry suggested.

It was a good suggestion that Ron wasn't going to accept right now. Simply put, he was beyond furious with Hermione and her lying.

Snap! Snap! Snap!

Hermione a bit flustered tried to manage the very public spectacle. "I need to speak with Ron, alone please. Oh for Merlin sake, stop taking pictures!"

It was Ron's turn to say something to Hermione in full view of the press. "Don't bother. I got nothing to say to you." With that, Ron walked away from Hermione, Harry, McGonagall, and a large pool of magical press reporters taking picture after picture of them arguing with one another.

"Ron!" Hermione shouted down the hallway at him. "Ron!"

Snap. Snap. Snap.

:::

* * *

><p>Ron said nothing to anyone as he angrily climbed up the stairs for the lifts on the ninth floor. He finally made his way to the lift and was greeted by his brother, Percy, who was exiting. Percy was carrying a large stack of paperwork and had an urgent but pleased look about himself.<p>

"Hello Ron."

"Hey," mumbled Ron not feeling social with anyone.

Percy didn't seem to notice his behavior as he was apparently too pleased with himself to notice anyone else. Ron stepped on the lift as Percy handed him a stack of paperwork.

"Here's your copy. I'm going to give the Minister his right now."

The lift doors were slowly closing as Ron looked down at the paperwork full of ledgers and addresses.

"Wait. What is this?" Ron asked as if he was snapping out of a bad dream. He reached out and held open the lift door to talk with Percy.

"It's the muggle tax records that the Minister asked me to research."

"They exist? Ha, I just made that whole story up when they captured me." Ron cracked, more to himself about how he used the lie of there being Muggle tax records to escape the French Ministry.

Ron could tell that Percy seemed a bit confused at his reaction not that it stopped him from bragging about what he found.

"I was able to find the Muggle bank account from the auction estate sale. I then traced the Muggle bank account back to a Gringotts account in Paris. The London Gringotts branch showed me a copy of their records and I was able to see payments for upkeep on all their property holdings throughout France." Percy stated as a matter-of-fact.

"Does this mean we can seize all of the vineyards they stole?"

Percy responded with a resounding, "No."

"What - why not?" A flustered Ron asked.

"It's up to the French Ministry to seize them because all the properties are in France. If they were here in England then we could."

Ron hotly interjected, "They run the French Ministry, Perce. How the bloody hell are we going to get them to seize the land they stole in the first place?!"

Percy seemed a bit flustered with Ron and calmly tried to talk to him. "Ron, they won't be running the French Ministry much longer. The Confederation is meeting right now with the Minister to dissolve their government."

"Oh, so then they can seize the vineyards?"

"No."

"What?! That makes no sense."

"Relax, Ron. The Confederation will appoint a new government then they in turn will launch an investigation to determine the rightful owners." Percy stated to him like he was talking to a child.

Ron's anger was hitting overdrive as he shouted, "That could take years! The Immortals will be making millions before…"

A brilliant idea occurred to him that would solve all his problems.

"Say Perce, you wouldn't happen to have included a French map of all the vineyards they own?" Ron asked rather sweetly.

"Yes… why do you ask?" Percy remarked rather suspiciously.

"No reason. Good job, Perce. I'm sure Kingsley will give you a commendation for this." Ron answered, as he put down his hand holding the lift doors open.

:::

* * *

><p>Ron opened up the bottom drawer in Harry's desk to find his Invisibility cloak neatly folded inside it. He then collected Harry's broomstick and quietly made his way out of Harry's office.<p>

"You think he learn to do a better job of hiding it," Ron remarked to himself, as he made his way over to his own desk.

He transfigured his white ceramic coffee cup to a big cardboard white box, and then started to place Harry's cloak and a magically shrunken broomstick inside it. He opened up his desk drawers and one after another emptied them into his box. It was when he reached the bottom drawer that he noticed something strange. His old Chudley Cannons cannonball bought by Hermione for him on his birthday was no longer split in two pieces. Now the cannonball was magically sealed on the bottom half, yet completely broken apart on the top half.

"Oh for the love of Merlin… what are you a stupid love barometer?" Ron griped at the cannonball.

Ron could hear a large noise of people outside his empty office. They were his fellow Aurors returning from the courtroom. He quickly grabbed his cannonball and put it inside his box before anyone could ask him what it was. The last thing he wanted to admit too was what that bloody thing represented.

"Oi Ron, there you are. You missed your own escape. We saw the memory of you being chucked into the dungeon cell by those French Trolls. And then you missing out of a chopped head." Artie Peterson, a fellow Auror, informed him rather callously.

"Yeah, good times." Ron replied to him and the other Aurors filing into the office.

Ron took one last look at his crummy Ministry desk he set at, the crummy office he worked in, and the crummy co-workers he worked with.

"Listen up," announced Kingsley at the office door. "For the next several weeks we're going to be assisting the Confederation."

Ron watched as a pleased Harry and a nervous Hermione walked into the office behind Kingsley. Hermione immediately locked eyes on him as he walked toward them to the door.

Kingsley continued speaking to everyone in the office. "I also have two important announcements. Ron can you come up here and join me."

Ron who had already been walking toward them stopped in front of the Minister of Magic, Harry, and Hermione. Hermione seemed to have a curious look about her as she was watching him holding on to his white cardboard box.

Kingsley smiled as he pulled out a golden Senior Auror badge from his robe. "This has been long overdue. Ron congratulations on making Senior Auror."

A small round of clapping broke out from his fellow Aurors behind him as Kingsley handed him his new badge. He looked over at a proud Harry and then over at a proud Hermione clapping on the news of his promotion.

Ron smiled, took off his Auror robe and then handed it and his new badge back to Kingsley.

"I quit."

:::

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** That was way, way longer than I wanted it to be. It's a transition chapter from the investigation to Ron and Hermione, which will be the driving force of the last two chapters.


	32. Chapter 32: Another new Beginning

:::

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 32 – Another new Beginning<strong>

The wind was unusually warm that night as Ron wiped the sweat off his forehead. He didn't idle his hand for more than a second before putting it back on Harry's broomstick. Flying as fast as he was over France meant that any deficiency of a firm hand hold on the broomstick would be deadly. Usually flying on a broomstick was a bit of stress relief for him. It would've been if his mind wasn't racing with images and thoughts of Hermione. The never-ending thoughts of her had a way of making even the simplest of tasks – complex.

"Why is she such a pain to deal with? Honestly, would've it been so bad had I stayed with Lavender? Or why couldn't I have met Clémence at the Yule Ball?" Ron's mind raced with alternate life choices that would've allowed him to escape from the one he was currently on. "Why do I constantly keep thinking about her?! Merlin, I wish it just end!"

Ron's wand grew brighter reminding him that it was under a Four Point spell with a directional tracking charm. It was guiding him to Monsieur Delacour's estate outside of Paris and he was getting close.

Ron steeled himself for what he was about to do next. Being a now ex-Auror meant he wasn't held by strict standards of enforcing magical laws. Tonight, he was a criminal, a dangerous unstoppable criminal that was going to sweep across France and burn every vineyard owned or stolen by the Immortals. Tonight, he was free of being labeled a side-kick of Harry Potter and an un-worthy choice for Hermione Granger. Tonight, a very arrogant and self-righteous group of murderous wizards and witches were going to learn the hard way not to mess with Ronald Weasley.

The clouds parted in his path as he dove downward toward the Delacour Estate. He tilted the broom pushing it in a sweeping circle of the entire estate mindful of his distance from the wards. He paid special attention to the fact that the mansion was as elegant on the outside as it was on the inside. In fact, the vast estate boasted of exuberant wealth and privilege. However, what really got his attention was next to the opulent mansion were acres and acres of vineyards with sweetly smelling grapes awaiting harvest. Little did the Delacours know that Ron was going to make that all but impossible.

Ron held out his wand and increased the speed of the electrons of all the wooden vines holding the grapes. He started at one end of the vineyard and followed through to the opposite end. Instantly, the night glowed amber from raging fires bursting all around the vineyards.

Ron slowed the broomstick to hover in air to watch in awe as the vineyards turned to a raging land of fire that lit the sky.

A few magical care-takers of the estate came rushing out of the mansion shooting freezing or extinguishing spells on the fires. It was to no avail. The fires were unstoppable and all Ron had to do was watch safely from above under Harry's invisibility cloak. Apparently, he wasn't the only one watching as he noticed a black lingerie wearing Gabrielle Delacour and a new man racing out onto the balcony of one of the mansion rooms.

Ron smirked to himself that Gabrielle had another visitor for the night. He remembered the morning when he had to rush out of her bedroom and climb down a water drain gutter that suddenly broke off. He landed unceremoniously in a bed of thorny roses before getting chased off the property by a pair of arse-biting hounds.

"You think she be courteous enough to install a rope ladder for all of us to use. Not to mention tying up those bloody hounds." Ron remarked.

That's when a smirk grew across Ron's face about pranking her back. He sped up the electrons in Gabrielle's bedroom setting it afire leaving her completely trapped on the balcony with her new lover. The panicky stranger and Gabrielle had no choice but to climb down off the balcony for safety. When a frantic Gabrielle got halfway down the water drain gutter, Ron slowed down the electrons on the gutter causing it to become brittle and unstable. He watched in amusement as a barely dressed Gabrielle fell off the gutter straight down on top of her new amore inside a thorny bush.

"Haha," Ron laughed to himself and then flanked his broomstick toward the sky. He had a lot more vineyards to visit before sunrise. "Busy work being a criminal."

:::

* * *

><p><strong>A week later<strong>

"Oi! Black-eye-Suzy, you got another visitor! Better be nice to this one; I don't have any more dragon steaks for you!" George yelled back to him from the shop.

Ron groaned aloud while sitting at his new oak desk inside Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. He quickly begged Merlin himself, "Merlin, please don't let it be Hermione."

"Ron, why are you wearing a dragon steak over your eye?!" A worry looking Hermione snapped aloud after entering the back of the shop.

"Of course," Ron exhaled in continuous disappointment at Merlin for never answering his pleas.

Hermione raced over to him and gently peeled the green steak off the right side of his face. "Ron, who did this to you?!"

Ron hated feeling like a little kid in front of a motherly acting Hermione and refused to tell her. "It's nothing, just leave it alone Hermione."

A furious Hermione still demanded-to-know from someone, "George, did you do this?!"

"Hermione, let it go," Ron pleaded before she found out the truth.

"Wrong brother! Or at least I don't think-"

"Merlin, please don't let him say it." Ron mumbled under his breath.

"—he has slept with my future sister-in-law. If he did, then yes I would be guilty of giving him a black eye too." George blabbed everything to a shocked and displeased Hermione.

"Shut up, George!" Ron roared at his prat brother.

"Ron, are you planning to sleep with her too?!" George teased him a bit more to the laughter of a great many customers from inside the shop.

Ron shot a nasty boil hex out of the office door toward the direction of George's voice.

"Ron!" Hermione snapped at him in displeasure.

"You missed me – ha!" George shouted from the front.

"Bloody snitch," mumbled Ron before putting the green Dragon steak back on his swollen right eye.

"Language, Ron." Hermione huffed with her hands on her hips and a look of pure disgust written across her face. "You slept with… with Gabrielle? That little Veela floozy!?"

"I'm sorry did you say there was another Order meeting? Do we have time to make it before your next date with Derrick at some expensive restaurant?" Ron retorted back.

The comparison only seemed to make Hermione breathe louder before she quickly demanded, "I don't want to ever hear or know about it."

Ron rolled his one good eye before pointedly asking Hermione, "What are you doing here, Hermione?"

The question only brought out her anger at him even more. "What I can't come over and see if you're doing okay? You never know when an older brother might have a good reason for beating you into a-"

"It was a lucky shot!" Ron interrupted to argue in his defense. "I didn't know he was going to punch me or I-"

"I would think sleeping with another family member would make you be ready for something you clearly deserve." Hermione rowed even more with him.

"I didn't deserve this! She's not my family member and I … she forced me to have sex with her." Ron rowed back at a non-believing and self-righteous Hermione.

"That's a lie," snapped Hermione.

"Oh that's dung coming from you. Is Derrick half-Veela? Does he wear sexy French-"

"I said I don't want to hear it."

This brought out the anger even more in Ron. "Oh now you don't want to talk about it. Okay for you to brag to the press, your so-called friends, and everyone else about how great and wonderful Derrick is, but if I'm seeing someone you don't want to hear it. Odd, how you had no problem telling all of them how useless and pathetic I was."

"I never said that." Hermione snapped.

Ron immediately corrected her. "You did too. You told Harry and Ginny all the time before you dumped me. Not to mention, I'm pretty sure you told the other useless followers you have."

Hermione's lips grew tight as she wanted to argue back but even she knew Ron was right.

Ron released, he let out all of his soaked up hurt feelings.

"You lied about the reason why you broke up with me. You wanted to go out with Derrick and you tossed me under the Knight bus. Why Hermione?" Ron asked but didn't give her the chance to answer as he kept talking. "Because you thought I was weak. I was too slow at asking you to marry me. I didn't have enough money to afford the things you deserve. We didn't go out enough. That I… I only wanted sex and I didn't really love you?! Is that what you think?!"

Hermione retook the offensive, "I never thought you were weak or stupid… or wanted nothing but sex. What type of woman do you take me for?"

Ron removed the steak from his swollen right eye and looked directly at Hermione with both eyes. He wanted her to see the truth. "You're the type of woman that can crush my hopes and dreams of being happily married to you for the rest of my life."

Hermione was speechless. The fact that a woman who would normally row with Ron over everything and anything was silent, spoke volumes.

A few silent moments of Hermione deep in thought but incapable of saying anything forced Ron to break the painful silence. "If you'll excuse me, I have to finish these supply invoices before I can leave to go to Clémence's funeral service."

Hermione squeaked with a small voice. "Do you need company?"

Ron flatly said, "No."

Hermione nodded before reaching into her small purse to pull out a vial of Murtlap Essence. "This will help with your swelling. You should apply two drops before you leave."

Ron softly nodded in appreciation toward Hermione. Hermione briefly smiled back at him before quietly leaving his office. His heart felt both relieved that he told her how he truly felt and yet broken that he let her leave alone. He waited a few seconds and then finally got the nerve to open up the bottom of his desk drawer to see his Chudley Cannons cannonball. He noticed the cannonball was still sealed together but it held deep and wide cracks throughout it. Only time and patience was ever going to heal their love for one another back together.

:::

* * *

><p><strong>A few more weeks go by<strong>

Ron's lunches were now always with Hermione. It started off rather innocently of Hermione meeting up with him outside Diagon Alley one afternoon and her joining him for lunch. It was a pleasant conversation about Hermione's new job working with the Department of Law Enforcement after she had transferred out of her old one. Then the conversation would alternate back to Ron and George's business and the new inventions they created. Near the end, the conversation evolved into Ginny and Harry's wedding, various news of the family, the latest book release, to the latest season of Chudley Cannons. Of course, the lunches would always end too quickly causing promises to be made to meet for the next day for lunch. That inevitable grew to even more and more lunches and then finally over to dinners.

It all led up to tonight where Ron, who had kept the flat in Paris, had invited Hermione for dinner. It was a big step in their teetering relationship toward rebuilding trust with one another, but it was one Ron was excited about doing. Hermione was a huge fan of France more so than Ron who lived there. He was planning on showing her the Muggle and hidden Magical shops of Champs-Elysees, Marais, and then Montmarte. He was even thinking about asking her for advice on what would be a good place to put a new expansion of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes at. If everything went pleasant, then he would invite her back to see his new flat and rose courtyard. If not he would be a perfect gentleman and take her straight back home to London.

"Ron?" A familiar voice echoed throughout his flat.

"In here, Harry. I'm just getting dressed for my date tonight with Hermione." Ron informed his best mate.

"We just got a solid lead on Monsieur Delacour. He's hiding in a small village in the French Ivory Coast." Harry excitedly informed him.

"That's good," casually offered Ron using his wand to correctly tie his necktie.

His lack of enthusiasm brought about an unexpected surprise in Harry's voice. "That's all you have to say?"

Run innocently shrugged his shoulders before making a go of combing his wild red hair into something manageable.

"Are you not coming?" Harry asked a bit confused.

Ron looked over at his best mate before explaining his lack of interest. "Listen Harry, I told you I would be a Senior Auror in reserve… if you truly need me. Otherwise, I got plans."

"Hello, we're talking about the man who tried to frame you for killing the French President of Magic."

"I know who he is Harry. Listen, Delacour is broke because everything he owned was burned down in that unexplainable fire we had a few weeks back. Most of his fellow Immortals have already been captured or they're on the run. Even his wife and daughter left him. They're staying with Bill and Fleur at Shell Cottage. Not that I would personally know that, seeing how Bill banned me from ever visiting again."

"Ron, don't you want to finish the mission?"

"Harry, the only mission that matters is my dinner with Hermione. Speaking of, does this black tie look better, or do you think a navy one would look better?"

Harry shook his head while smiling at him. "You planning to ask her tonight?"

Ron's face must have turned beet red as he answered, "Ask… ask her what?!"

"To marry you - you stupid git."

"It's just dinner. We aren't goint to…," Ron was about to boast a lie, but he knew Harry would never buy it if he even did. He simply reached over to his dresser drawer and pulled out a black velvet box for Harry to see. "I wasn't really planning on doing it tonight. I thought a few more dinners would be proper."

"What are you waiting for? Since when did you give a dung about being proper?" Harry spoke to him in a tone that he thought he was acting like an idiot.

"Harry, I want it to be perfect. I just started rebuilding my trust in Hermione again and I don't want to rush and complicate it all up."

"Wait till dark, take her up the Eiffel Tower, and ask. If she says no, then you toss her off it," Harry semi-joked to him on how to propose.

"Ha, she's still mad with me about that silly hat." Ron joked, as he secretly slipped the engagement box into his coat on the off chance that tonight was the night and Harry was really a genius.

"Listen Ron, if she says no, and I don't think in a thousand years she will, then you have my full permission to toss my other best friend off the Eiffel Tower like a Frisbee." Harry warmly offered.

"That just means she'll kill us both." Ron joked.

"Then make sure she says yes."

:::

* * *

><p>"Oh look Ron, it's Avenue Victor-Hugo." Hermione stated to him as she pointed out the street sign in front of them.<p>

"Whose Victor Hugo?" Ron asked a happily smiling Hermione excited to be on a tour of Paris with him.

"He's a French muggle author that wrote Les Miserables, and the Hunchback of Notre-Dame. Les Miserables is one of my all-time favorite novels about fighting injustice and social issues." Hermione proudly declared to Ron trying to soak up every word she was telling him.

Not that it stopped him from expressing an educated opinion about Hermione's favorite novel. "Why do I think it's really long?"

Hermione laughed before admitting that he was right. "The length doesn't matter. It's an excellent novel and you should read it. Hugo is a great author."

Ron wisely agreed with her professional assessment of all things book related.

A jubilant Hermione reached out and softly kissed him on the cheek before nuzzling her head on top of his shoulder. She had been this way ever since she arrived in Paris. They held hands as they walked down this street and that street stopping occasionally to look at various statues and shops. They had even danced a little with street musicians playing a rather romantic set for them. He swept her around in his arms on the sidewalk like they were dancing at Bill and Fleur's wedding. Before the set had even finished Hermione had surprised him with a deep breath-taking kiss. They hadn't kissed like that in years.

Ron started to notice that it was really getting late and wanted to know what Hermione would like to do next for the night. He thought it would be too forward to suggest his flat and he still didn't feel the time was right to mention the velvet box in his side pocket. Mainly, because the night was going better than he had ever hoped or expected.

"Hermione, I remember there's a nice little café around the corner. Or is there something else you rather do?" Ron diplomatically suggested.

Hermione lifted her head off his shoulder and blushed before telling him. "Harry tells me you have a beautiful rose garden at your flat. I love roses. I wish you let me see them."

Ron gulped a little at taking Hermione back to his flat. Looking at roses was one thing they could do, and then tearing her clothes off and carrying her up to his bed was another. The scent of her hair and perfume so close to him was making the latter a real possibility. It didn't help that his body was still spinning from her last kiss.

"Are, are you sure?" Ron hesitantly asked.

"Yes. Please Ron."

Hermione sealed the decision with a kiss that pushed out any reluctance from his mind. He was blissfully happy and even though it wasn't perfect or properly planned it just felt right. Ron smiled as he stepped back to see a loving look of desire and trust from Hermione. He could tell she was truly happy and completely comfortable in his presence. That look completely made her sexier and more beautiful than any other woman on the planet. Considering the rocky journey they have traveled together it certainly wasn't planned. To be honest, nothing in his life ever came out as he had hoped or planned. This moment was going to be no different. He knew right then, that he didn't want to show her his flat. He wanted to take her somewhere else.

"Apparate with me. We need to make a stop." Ron eerily said, as if his bravery was taking charge of his body.

Hermione looked a bit confused at his reaction but firmly held on to his hand. They quickly Apparated to a place that Ron's subconscious was demanding they go to first.

"Ron, this is the Eiffel Tower. Why are we here?" Hermione asked as she looked out at the city of Paris at night and then back to Ron pulling out a small black velvet box.

Ron's knees buckled out from under him with no conscious decision of his own for doing it. If he wasn't so nervous, then he be on one knee versus two. Not that it matter, Hermione's faced broke out in crying when she saw the engagement box and instantly realized what Ron was doing. He wasn't really able to say anything as he slowly opened the box to reveal a modest magical diamond around a gold band. The diamond was magical enhanced to shine brightly in the night when the suitor presented it to his perspective chosen.

"YES!"

:::

* * *

><p>AN: And that is that. The next chapter is an epilogue.


	33. Epilogue: Sinking quick

**Author's Note:** I don't think HP readers realize how tough it is to write a multi-chapter Ron only Point Of View story. To be honest, I thought mystery and intrigue would work as a single POV story more so than a Multi-POV story. Yeah…

Anyway, seeing how this is the epilogue I thought I break from the Ron only POV and give you a Multi-POV if for no other reason than to end on a high note. Hope you like it and don't forget to review.

One other thing I like to point out. I don't abuse Ron as some silly sidekick as others have claimed. I do like to write Ron in impossible situations that only a true underdog of exceptional bravery could ever survive. Why? Because he's not the Chosen one by birth or design. Instead, he's an everyday guy that has to endure through adversity with bravery, humor, common sense, and a bit of luck. To me, that is what makes Ronald Weasley an exceptional character to write about.

* * *

><p><strong>Beta's Note:<strong> What a nice end to a lovely fic. I hope you enjoyed it! Ron rarely gets his due and even if he isn't your favorite, you have to respect that. Come on, ladies, isn't it always a treat to hear about how boys think? Even if you disagree, I hope you enjoyed the journey.

:::

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><p><strong>Epilogue: Sinking quick<strong>

_Six months later_

"Ron?"

"Ron!" Hermione shouted impatiently at him. "I have some family news."

Ron looked up from the ever present stacks of invoices and delivery orders on his desk to see his wife entering his office. Despite her yelling from inside the shop, she was blushed with excitement. Ron faked a bit of interest seeing how the family news was probably going to involve Bill and Fleur's new baby, Victoire. He's heard enough baby stories the last two months to make him wish Hermione and he never had any themselves. It would be much easier that way instead of having to sit through hours and hours of family photos of everyone holding the newborn. Not to mention, he wouldn't have to force a smile for the wizard's camera after just getting thrown-up on by his new baby cousin.

"I just spoke with Ginny and Harry has agreed to go with you. He's really keen on the whole idea." Hermione spoke as if Ron already knew what she was talking about.

Ron showed his confusion before asking, "Going where?"

Hermione rolled her eyes a bit before answering, "I told you last week."

Ron inwardly groaned that Hermione probably had said something to him about it, but he couldn't remember what it was. Of course, the trick with Hermione was he couldn't admit to not remembering as this would swiftly invite a lecture from her on not properly listening to her. It was a complicate paradox, which even Harry had admitted to him that all men suffer from.

"About that thing," ad-libbed Ron in the hopes that Hermione would reveal what that thing actually was.

"Yes, the father son fishing trip on his new boat. Harry said he's never been fishing-"

Ron's eyes bulged at the realization that Hermione had just agreed for him to take a _death_ ride on his Dad's boat.

"Hermione – are you trying to kill me?!" Ron interrupted her with brute honesty.

Hermione seemed a bit shocked with his reaction. "No… not right now. Why do you think I'm trying to kill you?"

"You just agreed for me to ride on my Dad's boat. The very one he rebuilt from the last time he almost killed me on it." Ron profusely argued.

Hermione wasn't the least bit impress with his sound argument. "It was the Immortals that almost killed you, not the boat. Now stop being a baby. You'll be fine. Harry will be there with you on the boat while Molly, Ginny, and I will be watching you from a seaside café in Brighton. You have nothing to worry about and it's going to be a nice family outing for all of us."

"Oh good, you'll be close by to hear all the screaming," Ron stated in a deadpan voice.

Hermione refused to believe him, "There will be no screaming."

Ron resolutely told her in earnest, "Trust me Hermione – there will be screaming."

Hermione ad-libbed with a bit of cheek, "If you feel that strongly about it then get Harry to hook your bait."

Ron shook his head no. "Funny Hermione, but I'm not going."

"You have to go. Your mother has insisted that you go along with your dad. Moreover, your father is really looking forward to it. He's already been going around the Ministry telling everyone that your last catch was Umbridge and he's expecting to get something even _bigger_ this time around."

Ron hated that bloody lie of a fishing legend of how he captured Umbridge. "We didn't catch her, I arrested her. And if there any bigger than Umbridge, we won't be able to haul it into the boat."

"Relax, Ron. I seriously don't believe you boys will catch anything more than a few small fish."

"I would be so lucky if that's all that happens." Ron declared to his naïve wife.

:::

* * *

><p>Feeling a bit in trepidation, Ron dutifully walked to his father's garage while carrying his old fishing pole. A beaming Harry carrying his own brand new fishing pole shortly joined him.<p>

"Hermione told me I'm going to have to bait your hook." Harry informed him in a cheeky voice.

"Funny Harry." Ron responded while taking a glancing swipe at an amused Harry with the fishing pole he was carrying.

He missed hitting him, as Harry knew he would.

"**Ronald!?**" His Mum yelled from inside the house.

Ron stopped walking to yell back at the house. "I'm out here!"

His Mum quickly opened the Burrow's front door carrying a brown paper bag with her. A happy and alert Hermione and an unhappy and sleepy Ginny soon followed his Mum outside. Ron noticed how Ginny looked even more pregnant than he last seen her.

"_Any bigger and she have to magically enlarge the door and grease her arse for her to get through it._" Ron devilishly thought to himself about his sister.

"I've made some sandwiches for you boys to eat." His Mum proudly informed them as she handed the bag over to Harry.

"Thank you, Mum."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley."

"Harry dear, I've told you several times. You're family now and you can call me Mum."

Ron watched as his brother-in-law swelled up in pride and contentment. It was this type of misplaced desire to be part of the family that made Harry volunteer to go fishing.

"_You're a bloody idiot_," Ron thought of Harry, as Harry looked proudly from Ginny to his Mum to Hermione and then over to him. "_Let's see how you feel when you're screaming for your life._"

"Ron, I'll be taking the car to drive us to Brighton as Ginny can't apparate-" Hermione informed him.

"I'm a swelling tomato," moaned Ginny looking and feeling miserable about her pregnant weight.

"Oh, Ginny, you look fine." His Mum argued.

"Ginny, it's just a few more months." Harry appeased his wife.

"—while she's pregnant." Hermione finished and then gave him a stern look for him to keep his opinion to himself and not make Ginny feel even worse.

"After we do some baby shopping we'll be watching the three of you from shore." His mum informed them. "Now if there is any trouble…"

"Trouble? You mean about to die trouble?" Ron critically said aloud.

"Something like that. Just shoot a flare in the sky from your wand." His mum suggested to him in a knowing fashion.

"Oh they'll be fine," scoffed Hermione before she walked over to him and kissed him goodbye.

"I hold you responsible for our death," Ron warned his wife and her accessory guilt to his involuntary death.

Hermione sneered and rolled her eyes before playfully telling Ron, "Fine. I'll shamelessly throw myself on top of your coffin for forgiveness."

"I hope you look hideous in all black." Ron mentioned to her, as she left him to get in the car.

Ginny on the other hand wasn't willing to accept Harry's death as easily. "Ron, I'm holding you personally responsible if Harry doesn't make it back alive."

She kissed Harry on the lips and then waddled over to his car to sit in the backseat.

Boom!

Ron looked over his shoulder to see a puff of black smoke through the windows of his Dad's garage. Shortly thereafter, the side door opened and Dad's tools were frantically hopping out of the garage. They were desperately trying to escape for freedom.

"Cough, cough, cough… get back here." His blackened face Dad ordered from the garage door.

"Oh dear," moaned his Mum.

All of Dad's tools including the fire extinguisher were magically hopping to both his Mum and his direction in the hope they could somehow save them from his Dad.

"Mr. Weasley, are you okay?" Harry asked in a surprised and worried tone at his Dad's appearance.

His blackened face Dad was wearing the same silly fisherman clothes that he wore when he rescued him from the France Ministry. Ever the optimist that would never admit failure on one of his hobby, he cheerfully responded back to Harry. "Couldn't be better, Harry. Can't wait to go fishing. I just thought I should take some of the tools with us."

Ron could feel several of the tools behind his legs shivering in fear.

"Arthur, there's not much room on your boat. It would be better if I take them with me in Hermione's car." His Mum bargained his Dad, with the tools happily hopping up and down at her proposal.

Ron didn't even wait for his Dad's reluctant agreement as he took out his wand and magically opened the trunk to their car. The tools swiftly hopped over to the car, jumped into the trunk, and loudly slammed it shut before his Dad could even say a word about it.

"Now you boys have fun and nothing… too dangerous." His mum suggested and then specifically gave him a worried look.

"Molly, we'll be fine. Now you girls go have fun shopping." His Dad offered, before kissing his Mum on the cheek leaving a nice black smudge on her face.

"Come on Mum. I need to go to the loo." Ginny complained from the backseat window of his car.

"Every five minutes," softly groaned Harry.

"Why didn't you go before you got in the car?" His Mum asked, as she left his Dad, Harry, and himself to join the girls in the car.

"She did." Harry answered, knowing full well that Ginny couldn't hear him.

The car soon rolled away leaving them to their untimely fate.

"Boys, who's up to catching some big fish today," his Dad boasted to both of them.

"Looking forward to it," Harry excitedly replied.

Ron said nothing if for no other reason than not being disrespectful to his Dad. Instead, he solemnly walked into his Dad's garage and was immediately greeted with the magically engineering of his Dad's labors. The same boat that had been wrapped around a tree was now whole and straight again. Well not entirely, as he walked around to the back of the boat he noticed the front of it stuck out a little bit to the right.

"This is going to be fun," Harry remarked to his Dad and him after seeing the boat for the first time.

Ron involuntarily rolled his eyes as he tossed his fishing pole in to the boat.

"Now boys, let me go over some of the nautical terms you need to know." His Dad proudly lectured to them. "The front of the boat is called a Bow. The back of the boat is called a Stern. The left of the boat is called Starboard. No that's Port, yes that right… the left is Port and the right is Starboard."

"Why is that Mr. Weasley?" Harry eagerly asked his proud Dad like it was his first day at Hogwarts.

"I think it has something to do with using the loo. Muggles, they always come up with these interesting names for things." His Dad answered, even though Ron was sure there was more to it than what his Dad knew.

"Now let's all get in and we can make it out to the Channel before any of the other boats get out there." His Dad instructed them, as he boarded the boat and set down in the driver seat.

"Mr. Weasley, I heard the English Channel was the busiest shipping lane in the world." Harry informed them, as he boarded the boat and took the empty seat behind his Dad.

His Dad excitedly asked, "Is it really?!"

Ron groaned aloud as he took the same seat he rode in before.

"_I'll never forgive you for this, Hermione._"

"Yes sir," Harry cautiously answered his Dad's question.

"Wouldn't that be something to see." His Dad said in eagerness.

"_Why me Merlin, why?_"

"Hold on boys this might be a bumpy ride till we get to the water."

"_Now the screaming starts._" Ron surmised, as he tightly gripped the bottom of his fishing chair while the boat magically rose up and flew out of his Dad's garage.

:::

* * *

><p><strong>Hermione's POV: <strong>

She requested the waiter to sit them at the table closest to the beach with the best Ocean view. To which he did and after Molly and she set down, they patiently waited for Ginny to re-join them from another loo visit. As they waited, it didn't take long for her to spot a small white boat on the horizon.

"I think that's them." Hermione pointed the boat out to Molly.

"Where… oh yes, I see them. Whew, at least they haven't sunk." Molly stated in equal parts of surprise and relief.

Hermione scoffed a little, "Haha, oh they're fine. Ron always overreacts."

Molly was of a different opinion on the matter. "No dear, I'm afraid Ron is a bit more … er experienced when it comes to Arthurs' hobbies. To be honest, I wouldn't agree to this if Ron wasn't here. Hopefully, this fishing trip will break in Harry and they can start to take turns with Arthur."

"Turns?" Hermione asked in confusion.

"Yes, none of the other boys will go with Arthur. Until Harry, Ron was the only one brave enough."

Hermione seemed to be a little bit hesitant to challenge her mother-in-law on the subject and was relieved to see Ginny join them from the loo.

"Did they make it in one piece?" Ginny inquired to the both of them.

"Let me check." Molly answered, as she reached into her handbag and pulled out a brass Omnioculars.

"I think Arthur has something."

:::

* * *

><p><strong>Ron's POV:<strong>

His Dad had gracefully landed the boat a few kilometers off Brighton beach. This in itself made him even madder if he had experienced a hellish flight to the water. It wasn't. The flight was smoother than flying his own broomstick.

"Why in Merlin's name did we not fly out of the French Ministry?" Ron said to himself, as he started to question the basic framework that nothing that his Dad worked on performed like it was suppose too.

"Okay boys; let me start the outboard engine and we'll go a bit further out." His Dad proudly announced.

"_Okay the flying car in second year was ruddy at flying, but good at driving. This boat is good at flying, so it must be… wait a second. Was the car supposed to be a flying machine or a driving machine?_" Ron considered.

"Dad?"

"Yes Son?" His Dad automatically answered while pointing his wand at the throttle.

"Was the family car supposed to be a flying machine or something we were meant to drive?"

Ron never got an answer as the boat lurched forward a few meters than abruptly stopped. The forward momentum sent everyone flying off their seats.

Harry with his glasses skewed on his face was the first to complain after hitting his head on the side of the boat. "Oi."

Ron wasn't feeling any better after almost getting tossed off the front end of the boat into the water.

"Sorry about that boys. The engine is a bit temperamental since rescuing Ron from Paris." His Dad offered an explanation as the outboard motor was now puffing out a white cloud of smoke.

"Perhaps Mr. Weasley, we should start fishing right here. It should be deep enough." Harry suggested, as he fixed his glasses on his face.

"You sure, Harry?" His Dad hesitantly asked. "I thought the farther away from shore the deeper the water."

Ron, facing away from his father and Harry, rolled his eyes at the loony thought of going someplace that was even deeper and further away from land.

"The channel is really deep, Mr. Weasley." Harry pleasantly answered, then reached over to his new fishing pole to use. "Ron, give me a second and I'll bait your hook."

Ron gave a sneering look at a cheeky Harry and his chuckling father before pulling out his own fishing pole to fish with. His Dad on the other hand magically enlarged a huge three meter fishing pole with a shiny brass reel that had several ivory knobs attached to it.

"Stanley from the Spirit Division was nice enough to let me borrow his magical fishing pole. I promised him I wouldn't catch anything less than a meter off it." His Dad announced to both of them. "The hook has been magically charmed to catch the biggest fish in the area."

Harry youthfully responded, "This is going to be fun. No paperwork, no meetings-"

"No life preservers," added Ron, soft enough so that his Dad or Harry couldn't overhear him.

"—no official investigations, and nowhere to be but right here."

Bzzzz!

Ron looked back at the boat to see that Dad's borrowed fishing pole was letting out spools of fishing line.

"Ha-ha-ha! I got you now!" His Dad proudly boasted.

:::

* * *

><p><strong>Hermione's POV:<strong>

She magically pulled out two pairs of Omnioculars from her small hand purse for Ginny and her to use. The Omnioculars were especially good at Quidditch games when you needed to zoom in and replay what happened. This was fortunate, as she had to rewind several times for her to believe what she was actually seeing on the ocean.

"Is that a…" Ginny asked her in disbelief after viewing the same thing she was watching.

Hermione grudgingly answered, "Yes… it's a whale. I think it's a Sperm Whale. They're the largest toothed whale species on the planet."

Molly had a different mindset than both Ginny and herself. "Oh for Merlin-sake, Arthur - let it go. I'm not going to cook it no matter how much you beg."

"Molly, I don't think you will be able to cook it. It's over forty tons… and I think they are restricted."

"Forty tons?!" Molly gasped. "Merlin's beard, I'm not cooking it and that's final."

Ginny started giggling aloud as Hermione returned her attention to watching Ron and Harry struggling to keep Mr. Weasley inside the boat.

"Oh look, it's dragging the boat. Those whales must be really good swimmers." Ginny commented to both of them.

"Wait… I see another boat." Ginny observed to them as she started clicking on the Omnioculars brass levers. "Ooooh that is a big one."

Hermione's heart raced as she took her view off Ron's boat toward a rather large white top and black hull ocean liner steaming directly toward the boys. She clicked on the Omnioculars to make out the ships' name written on the side of the hull.

"It's the Queen Mary 2." Hermione announced with a pitch of fear in her voice

"Surely Arthur must see it." Molly grasped.

Hermione could make out the faint and distant sound of a horn blowing from the ocean liner.

:::

* * *

><p><strong>Harry's POV:<strong>

He held tightly on to Mr. Weasley and his fishing pole as they were being dragged through the waters in an increasing speed. It didn't help that Ron, who was also holding on to Mr. Weasley and the fishing pole, was shouting at him to cut the fishing line.

"CUT THE BLOODY LINE!" Ron roared in his ear.

"No don't do that, grunt, we just need to wear him out before we can haul him in to the boat." Mr. Weasley argued against Ron's order. "Oh you're not going anywhere big boy… this line is unbreakable."

"Dad, he's bigger than the bloody boat. He won't fit!" Ron shouted with the strain of holding on to the fishing pole and each other was starting to get to him.

Mr. Weasley as determined as ever to pull in the boat what looked like a whale offered a solution. "We can shrink him… then enlarge him… grunt, when we get him back home."

The idea didn't sit well with Ron. "Dad, he's bigger than the bloody house."

Harry had to agree with Ron, but right now all he could think of was attaching the fishing pole to a holder that was on Ron's chair. "Mr. Weasley! Put the pole into the holder before we lose it."

"Harry, just cut the bloody line!" Ron shouted in disagreement.

Harry snapped back at Ron for shouting in his ear. "It's unbreakable you git."

"Boys - no fighting." Mr. Weasley ordered, as he struggled to put the fishing pole into the holder as Harry suggested. "Save your fighting-"

**AROOOO! AROOOO! DING, DING, DING!**

Harry jumped at the noise of a very large horn and bell. He stood completely frozen when he noticed that they were crossing the path of a very large ship.

"Hold on Harry," Ron shouted at him before he grabbed him and leaped to the back of the boat.

**DING, DING, DING!**

**CRASH!**

:::

* * *

><p><strong>Hermione's POV:<strong>

"Ron!" Hermione shouted at the sight of Ron and Harry disappearing after getting run over by the Queen Mary.

"Where's Harry and Ron?! I don't see them!" A frantic Ginny beside her demanded to know.

Ginny was frantically clicking lever after lever on her Omnioculars looking for Harry and Ron.

"There's your father," rejoiced Molly as she pointed toward the ocean.

She straightaway scanned the horizon away from the ocean liner to see a Mr. Weasley still holding his fishing pole and just as determined to pull in the whale. She had a feeling he hadn't even noticed that they were just hit by the Queen Mary or that Ron and Harry were missing.

"Is he… where's the rest of the boat?" Molly asked after zooming in to see Mr. Weasley was only in the front half of his boat.

Hermione gulped after replaying the scene of them getting hit by the ship on her Omnioculars. "They're… they're on the other half of the boat. On the other side of the Queen Mary. Ron grabbed Harry and leaped to the back of the boat before they got hit."

She didn't know which was worse. The possibility that Ron could be dead after getting run over by a ship or him being alive to constantly remind her that he was right about his father's boat and his hobbies.

"I should've told him before he left." Hermione said aloud in regret.

"Tell him what dear?" Molly calmly asked her.

If anything Molly seemed completely not surprised by what just happened. In fact, she was more interested in what Hermione was talking about.

Hermione confessed even though she had wanted to tell Ron first. "I'm pregnant."

Ginny rejoiced in celebration, forgetting for a second that both of them might be widowers.

:::

* * *

><p><strong>Ron's POV:<strong>

DING, DING, DING!

After recovering from the shock of being hit by a bloody large ship, he looked down to notice water was pouring into the boat from the broken center of the boat.

"I thought he did an unsinkable charm." Harry yelled over at him as they both stood up on the back half of the sinking boat.

Ding, Ding, Ding!

"He probably just did it on the front half." Ron answered him then realized he had no choice but to abandon the sinking boat. "Jump!"

They both dived over the side before the boat went under. He didn't take long for him to regret the decision as the ocean was freezing cold.

"Ron! Ron!"

Ding, Ding, Ding.

"Pft, over here Harry!"

"Swim for it!"

Ron felt a swift undertow dragging him closer to the ship passing them by. He suddenly realized what Harry was trying to tell him. The ship's propellers were sucking them in to be chopped up into sliced lamb meat.

He wildly started swimming away from the ship as fast as he could. By the grace of Merlin, he had always been a fast swimmer and if ever there was a moment when it was needed now was the time.

:::

* * *

><p><strong>Ginny's POV:<strong>

Ginny was ecstatic that Hermione was pregnant and would be sharing in the same experience that she was suffering from.

"We really are sisters." She shouted after hugging a nodding Hermione in congratulations.

"Incredible good news!" Her mum excitedly congratulated Hermione with a hug after Ginny released her. "Another grandchild, Arthur will be so pleased to hear it."

"Thank you, Ginny, Molly, but please don't tell Ron. I haven't even told him yet." Hermione pleaded to the both of them.

"Oh he'll be excited for sure." Her mum declared to the both of them. "Just like Harry was when Ginny told him."

The mention of Harry's name reminded Ginny that they both were still missing. She quickly lifted her Omnioculars to find her missing husband and brother. After the rather large boat had passed, a few minutes went by before she noticed Harry and Ron swimming over to her Dad and his half of the boat.

"There they are! They're swimming over to Dad."

"Where is the other half of the boat," Hermione asked as if it was a mathematical question of a missing constant.

She merely shrugged her shoulders while watching Harry climbing aboard Dad's half of the boat.

:::

* * *

><p><strong>Ron's POV:<strong>

He was exhausted. His heart was racing but the rest of his extremities were going into hypothermia. He knew it wouldn't be long before he wouldn't feel his fingers and toes if he didn't get out of the water. He thought about Apparating to land but freezing like he was he knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate enough to prevent splinching. There only course was to climb aboard Dad's half of the boat before they went into hypothermia shock and eventually drowned.

It took a few minutes to catch Dad's half, then he had to help lift Harry up into the boat as both of them were too weak to climb aboard by themselves.

"Ron, grab the hook and be ready to pull him up side the boat. I'll shrink him and we can bring him aboard." His oblivious-to-everything-around-him father instructed him after he had lifted a frozen Harry onto the boat.

"Mr… Mr.. Wea..sley" Harry stuttered in reply to gain his attention.

Harry's voice must have finally caught the attention of his Dad as he turned his head and looked at them in shock.

"What did you do to my boat?!"

Ron with the help of a shaking cold Harry finally lifted himself out of the water onto his Dad's half of the boat. He didn't even bother to answer his Dad who seemed completely baffled as to the whereabouts of the back half of his boat. Nor did he take notice that the boat was no longer moving in the water or that the fishing line had swung over to the back where he was laying down at.

What he did notice was the rather huge colossal head of a very angry fish striking out of the water to bite the back end of the exposed boat with his numerous teeth. To which it completely did including a good bit of his heel that was caught in his mouth.

"**AGGGGHHHHHH!**" Screamed everyone in the boat about to be eaten by a bloody fish.

:::

* * *

><p><strong>Hermione's POV:<strong>

She said nothing. How could she? She was in complete shock as she helplessly watched as a rather angry Sperm Whale was attacking the boys.

"What are they saying?" Molly asked them for a guess on why all three of them had their mouths wide open and an extremely fearful expression.

"They're screaming 'Mum.'" Ginny informed the group with what Hermione had feared to be true.

"I'm never going to live this down," she moaned even though she couldn't take her eyes away.

Harry and Mr. Weasley were shooting numerous stunning spells at the whale while Ron was shooting numerous flares into the sky.

"That's our signal girls. Let's go save the boys." Molly ordered to both of them as she pulled out her wand.

….

**Several hours later**

After dropping off Mr. Weasley and Molly and a still shaken Harry and Ginny off at their respective homes, Ron had still refused to speak with her. Feeling completely guilty, she tried to talk with him again.

"At least your father is happy that Ginny managed to get a picture of him with… the er… the catch." She diplomatically said, but wanted to avoid bringing attention to the rather huge Sperm Whale that bit off a chunk of Ron's heel.

"It was a whale." Ron stated in an angry tone breaking his silence with her.

"Yes, a whale." Hermione completely agreed with him, excited that he was finally talking with her again.

"With teeth."

Hermione gave him her warmest smile as the closest thing to an apology. He didn't respond to her a bit. She had to turn her attention back to the road and her driving before she could talk with him some more.

"I think your Mum wants Harry to take turns with you doing your Dad's hobbies."

Ron only grunted in approval.

"You were very brave today; saving everyone like you did."

Ron grunted again in acknowledgement.

"I don't know if now is a good time, but I've been wanting to tell you something."

She noticed Ron was staring away from her looking out the passenger side window and saying nothing. It stung her that Ron was indifferent toward her. She enjoyed his love, could handle his anger, but the indifference was by far the worst feeling that Ron could show her.

She soon pulled over on the side of the highway to gain Ron's full attention.

"Ron, I know sometimes I can be a bit of it a know-it-all and stubbornly refuse to listen to you." She declared while reaching out and holding Ron's hand.

Ron started to smile back at her prompting even more of a confession from her.

"I just want you to know that I love you and I'm so happy to be your wife and mother to your child." She slipped the news in.

"Thank you Hermione and I'm… wait, what?" Ron stated with a confused look on his face.

"Ron, I'm pregnant… we're pregnant." Hermione smiled to him in celebration.

Ron instantly burst out in a huge smile. He pulled over to her and deeply kissed her before asking, "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I guess I like to keep waiting for the right time." She wisely answered about their past and future destiny together.

The End?

:::

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Good Bye.


End file.
